


Supernatural Rewrite: Season Four.

by huntertales



Series: Supernatural Rewrite. [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mentions of hell, Reader Insert, Romance, mentions of torture, supernatural rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 400,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntertales/pseuds/huntertales
Summary: Terribly written NSFW content ahead.





	1. Lazarus Rising.

You can feel your freshly manicured nails dig into the soft cushions of your couch., but you can’t help but imagine it’s the pine wooden box you woke up inside two weeks ago. For a moment you believe you’re six feet underneath the ground, scratching and pounding for your life, your voice barely is an audible moan, but to you it feels like a panicked scream. Lately you can’t tell what’s a hallucination or reality. Instead of living through the nightmare again, you’re lying in the middle of the living room with your eyelids pressed tightly together, safe from danger. You can almost feel the splinters in your bloodied skin and broken nail beds after you spent hours scratching and breaking the tips from trying to get out of there.

Instead they’re painted a dark crimson red, done by a friendly woman at the salon who chatted your ear off about her grandkids that were visiting from out of town this weekend. She questioned in a humorous tone of why you why your nails were torn up. You can almost feel that forced bashful smile spread across your lips, mumbling out some excuse of biting your nails out of a nervous habit. Boyfriend issues, you tell her. She laughs and says how she’s been there, done that. An hour later after getting pampered, it’s like nothing happened. You’re normal again.

“Holy shit. It worked.”

You came back from the dead—a lady lazarus. The memory was a bit fuzzy with how you ended up six feet underneath the ground in a pine box you couldn’t break out of. But when you sat there in the silence of your heavy breathing, you can hear the bone chilling growls from the hellhound as they prayed on their last victim, you. How it sunk its claws into the flesh of your leg, ripping you away from Sam’s arms as the both of your mourned the death of his big brother, Dean. But then, like a breaking damn, everything came flooding back to you. How Lilith possessed your body after you and the boys were cornered, how much you tried fighting off the demon. She only proved to be stronger than you when she opened up that door, letting that hellhound tear apart Dean by bloody limb until his struggles and panicked pleas dwindled to nothing but silence. Maybe that’s why you didn’t call Sam after you came back from the dead three and a half months later.

The first thing you heard when you given up on fighting was muffled voices, and a second later, the sound of shovels hitting against the top of the coffin. You thought it was the boys, somehow you tricked yourself into believing that the brothers weren’t dead, this was all some trick Lilith did. Bury you alive in some empty field to mentally torture you until the lack of oxygen killed you hours later. When you heard the heavy thumps coming and wood breaking, it might have been the best thing to have happened to you. Rays of sunshine peeked through the cracks of the splitters, it hurt your eyes, but you tried your hardest to see who your rescuers were. When you adjusted to the natural brightness, your heart sank in fear. No matter what, you could make out those eyes from anywhere—pitch black eyes were staring at you. Demons rescued you from the dead.

“Hiya, darling. Aren’t we glad to see you.” 

Your eyelids pop open when you get to the end of the dream, a heavy breath falls from your lips as you look around the room in a panicked state. You rest a hand on the cushions as you around the room, taking in notice how the summer sun creeps through the open blinds, showing off the backyard you’ve spent childhood years playing tag or confessing secrets with old friends that weren’t the Winchesters. You remind yourself that you’re home; not in that motel room, or six feet underneath the ground. Two weeks have passed since you came back from Hell, and since you last seen Sam. But you can’t bare the thought of picking up the phone and talking to him. How he saw you, it made you feel like even more of a freak from what he did. Maybe he thought you were really back. He probably didn’t want to speak to someone who help murder his brother. Or maybe he thought you were an illusion from whatever the hell he did to make those demons escape the vessel’s body.

Familiar footsteps coming from the kitchen brought you back into the reality of the situation. It was the ninth of September and you’ve been home for over two weeks now, back from Hell without a single scratch on your body. You couldn’t find a single one on you from previous hunts that went south, nor did it look like a hellhound ripped your flesh wide open. with its sharp claws and teeth. And after spending four months rotting in the ground, you’d think something would look off, but whenever you pass a mirror, you look healthy. You hear the air conditioner kick on making you wrap your sweater more tightly around your body, but it clashes with the shorts you put on this morning. You were enjoying the remaining summer days, but after taking a nap that put a cold shiver in your body, you want to change into something more comfortable.

You look away from the patio doors when you saw a sandwich on a plate a glass of water come into your view. Looking up, a smile of appreciation creeps along your lips when you see Josh is hovering over you, the best friend you needed right now, holding lunch in his hands. He hasn’t left your side since you called him in a panic back in Illinois, with no memory or money of how you managed to get out of Hell, he’s been supportive. Josh nods his head for you to scoot over so he can sit next you after you grab the content from his hands. You move over slightly as you sink your teeth into the food, enjoying every little savory taste. as you munch your way through a late lunch. When you glance over at him to say thank you, but you stop when you see that his friendly smile has dropped into the type of expression that makes you roll your eyes. You lean over and drop the half eaten sandwich to the plate, trying to find something to stop this conversation that’s been building for days now. He’s got a right to ask questions, but you don’t want to drag him farther than you already have into this mess.

“Y/N, come on. Talking about it could help you. And it’s not like you can march into some shrink’s office without getting locked up.” Josh tries to be comforting when you get up from the couch, but you grab the water to take a drink, keeping yourself from saying anything. He let out a quiet sigh, trying to go another approach. “You should try and track down Sam. I’m sure he would be happy to know you’re alive.”

“Right. Talk to the one person who killed his brother. I’m sure he’d love that.” You muttered underneath your breath, a quiet scoff coming out from your throat. When you look over at him, you can see he wasn’t too pleased from your remark. You open your mouth to apologize, but you stop when you hear the doorbell ring. You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Who could that be?”

Josh shrugged his shoulders, making a light joke about it being a girl scout troop trying to sell you some cookies. There was a group of kids going door to door trying to get people to buy some sweets, and while you’ve ignored each time they knocked on the door, you feel a bit more comfortable with at least someone here. And your stomach growls again at the thought of having something sweet inside the house. You make a mental note of sucking it up and head to the store. But when you put your hand on the knob and open the door, the person standing on your porch isn’t a girl scout troop. It isn’t a friendly neighbor poking their head to see how you are, they aren’t even a stranger. It’s someone you thought you’d never get to see again. And from the look on his face, he’s even more surprised than to see you, live and in the flesh. But he composes himself and gives you that sweet smile that used to make your knees go weak.

“Surprise.” Dean, in all of his glory, is standing right across from you. There’s not a mark on his body and you can see how his green eyes light up when he sees you. His voice was like music to your ears, but you still can’t tell if he’s a hallucination. Your hand slowly reaches out for the table next to the door, without him noticing, your hand slips inside the drawer, pulling out a knife. “I wasn’t sure if Bobby was lying when he said you were dead, too. But…Y/N, god. It’s so good to see you.”

You take a cautious step backwards when you see him take one toward you. Your brain kicks into gear when you see that his arms extend to touch you. But you keep thinking that this isn’t him. You lunge forward to attack him, but Dean quickly realizes what you were doing, he grabbed ahold of your wrist and tried pinning it backwards. But you take your free hand and punch him directly in the face, making the man stumble backwards into the living room. Josh jumps up from the couch when he sees the man you had said was dead, now standing in the flesh. “Y/N, it’s me!” Dean tried to explain, but you wouldn’t listen to him. There’s no way someone like Dean just popped up from the dead. “Relax I’m not here to hurt you!”

“My ass.” You hissed at him, getting ready to lunge forward again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay!” Dean admitted defeat, throwing his hands up in the air when he saw that you were seriously about to attack him. You inhale a deep breath as your eyes flicker over to Josh, who gives you a shrug, wondering if the man standing in front of you both is really the man back from the dead. If you came back, maybe there’s a possibility he got out, too. “Your name is Y/N Y/L/N. You became a hunter after I asked for help looking for my father. We’re the closest thing we have to a family. Y/N, it’s me. You gotta believe me.”

You take in all of the information that someone like Dean would only know. You cautiously drop your hand with the knife to your side and step forward to him. Dean tenses up when he sees you reach out a hand to touch him, but you can feel him relaxing when you place your hand on his chest, wondering if there was any deep marks across his body. But all you can feel is the soft fabric from his shirt and the muscle of hunting underneath your fingertips. You look up at him with a small smile, fooling him into believing you feel for the act before the knife comes up again to try and slice at his skin. But he grabs your arm and roughly spins you around, managing you gain leverage and pin you in place. “I’m not a shapeshifter!” Dean yells, but you scoffed at that excuse.

“Then you’re a revenant!” You said, still denying the truth.

Dean pushed you away, making you stumble across the room until you’re standing next to Josh. You realize that your knife is missing, only to find that Dean is holding it out and pointing the blade at both of you. You narrow your eyes at the man, waiting for him to make move, but he only tries to prove he’s real. “If I was either, would I do this with a silver knife?” You narrowed your eyes when you watched as he tugged up his sleeve of his button up shirt, and all though he seemed hesitant about cutting his skin, he did it anyway. The blade cut open the flesh without sizzling or burning, the only thing that came out was a groan of pain from him. You could feel your breathing heavier from shock that was finally settling in on you. You mumbled out his name, a small smile spreading across your lips. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Your breathing came heavier when he took a few steps forward to you. The man you’d watched be murdered right in front your eyes months ago was alive. You can’t help yourself but forget about everything and go in for a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck as you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he squeezes you tightly, almost afraid he’s going to lose you again. You close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of him in the flesh. You squeeze him once more before you break away for a moment, but when you’re just inches, you know his mind had been on other things. You watch as he leans forward again before his lips are on yours, wanting to the one thing that’s been buzzing around in his mind after hearing you were alive. You almost forget you left the front door open and Josh is right across from you. As your fingers creep up to the back of his head and bury themselves into his hair, you get lost in the feeling that’s still exciting and new.But you know the moment only lasted until you heard someone clear their throat, obviously stumbling upon a sight that they didn’t want to see.

You immediately break away from Dean when you look to the door, only to see Bobby Singer himself standing in your doorway, a playful disapproving look spreads across his face from what he saw. You glance back over at Dean as a bashful smile spreads across your lips, almost giving him an apologetic smile from what you did. “It's—It’s to see you, Dean.” You mumble, your hands resting on his shoulders. You look over at Bobby, “Guess I’m busted.”

"Y/N,” Josh’s voice brings you back into the reality of this situation. You look over your shoulder to see that his facial expression is crossed with confusion, yet still comes off as protective, obviously thrown off from a man he’s never met and you’re now in the arms of one you’d claimed was dead. And now here he stood, in the flesh like nothing was wrong. “What the hell is going on here?”

You open your mouth to try and explain everything, but before a word could come out, Dean takes a step away from you and puts his attention on Josh. “Listen, Josh, right? I think it’s time for you to leave.” Dean said, trying to be polite and kind. But he comes off more rude and impatient from someone that seems more like an outsider. Josh crosses his arms over his chest and cocks an eyebrow up from the command. “Look, this really doesn’t pertain to you. This is more family business. So if you don’t mind…”

“Right. For all we know you’re one of those monsters that put her in the grave.” Josh said. You roll your eyes, not exactly liking of what petty fight is about to break out, but each time you try and speak, a man cuts you off. “I’ve got just enough of a right to be here as you do.”

“Why should I let you stick around? It feels like each time you’re around Y/N, something bad happens!” Dean said, his tone rising. It was clear enough from previous occasions that the oldest Winchester never really took a kind liking to Josh. And while you’d seen your old friend on occasion, sometimes things did get a bit out of hand. “Maybe I oughta kick your ass to see if you’re one of them. Sure got some aggression after what I went through. Do you want me to take it out on you?”

“Oh, my God.” You mumbled. You take in a deep breath when you feel your temper beginning to rise, and knowing from the last few days, nothing good happens. You focus your attention on the glass of water that you sat down on the coffee table. While you try and block out the arguing, it only gets worse with threats. “Will you two please shut up—”

"Try me. It’s you and that stupid little brother of yours that got Y/N into this mess. She’s been to Hell and back because of you. And it’s not the first time she’s died because of your sloppy behavior!” Josh pointed out. “Maybe you should just leave before I put you in the ground again.”

Dean let out a sarcastic laugh from the threat that Josh tried pulling on him. “Lay a hand on me, pretty boy, and I’ll snap your neck like a twig.” He hissed at the man, his tone dropping to a threatening one as he stepped forward to the man. “I'll—”

"Shut up!” You pressed your eyelids shut from the sudden rush of adrenaline that pumped through your body. Seconds later you can feel the liquid of the water brush again your feet as the glass goes flying to the wall, crashing into tiny little pieces. You take in a deep breath as you open up your eyes again, only to be greeted with three faces of surprise from what just happened. An invisible forced threw that glass, and you had a feeling each of them knew it was because of you. Even though this wasn’t the first time it happened, you can still feel yourself becoming exhausted as a shaky finger comes up to your nose, brushing away the trickle of blood that came out. “Josh, you should go. Please.”

The man gives you a worried look from what happened. You shake your head, needing him to leave before Dean keeps to his promise. Josh lets out a sigh as he looks over at the Winchester, he tosses daggers at the man before he does what you want. When you hear the front door close, you head for the kitchen, ignoring the footsteps that follow after you and the questions that come out from what you just did. You reach out a hand to grab the bottle of water from the counter. When Dean stands next to your side, you turn over and throw the liquid right in his face, taking him by surprise. He took a moment of silence from what you did, thinking it was out of revenge after speaking to Josh like that. He leaned over to the sink, spitting out the water.

“He’s not a demon, either, you know.” Bobby said. “I already checked.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Sorry. Can’t be too careful.”

\+ + +

You opened up one of the drawers to pull out a checkered dish towel for Dean to dry off with after you tested to see if he was something unnatural. Everything that was happening, coming back from the dead and seeing the man you murdered, unwillingly, was standing right in front of you. As if the horrible events that took place four months ago didn’t happen. You could feel your head spin from the strange lead of events that kept happening one after another, too fast for you to keep up with. You twisted the towel so all of the excess water trickled down back into the sink. You turned back around and leaned against the countertop. As you began wiping away the blood that was starting to dry underneath your nose, you glanced over at Bobby when you caught him staring at you and Dean. His mouth parted open slightly as the reality of the situation began creeping up on him, too. The look on his face was nothing more than the most utmost confusion, summing what everyone was feeling.

“You came back two weeks ago. And you nearly gave me a heart attack when you knocked on my door.” Bobby said. pointing a finger at you first before it moved over to Dean. You nodded your head, dropping the towel to the counter. Bobby let out a sharp sigh from the truth as he dropped his hand to his side. “That don’t make a lick of sense. None of this does.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Dean said as he glanced over at you for a moment. The both of you shared the same expression of bewilderment before glancing over at Bobby. “You’re preaching to the choir.”

Bobby shook his head, as if neither of you were getting how serious this was. “Kids, your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop, and you’ve been buried four months.” Your nose wrinkled from the disturbing thoughts you didn’t want to remember as the man stared at you both for a moment, the familiar images flashing in his mind unwillingly. “Even if you two could slip out of Hell and back into your meat suits…”

“I know.” You mumbled. “We should look like a couple of ‘Thriller’ video rejects.”

Bobby asked the important question. “What do you two remember?”

Your fingernails dug into the countertop from the elephant in the room nobody had discussed yet. Part of you could have let it go and pretend that nothing happened, but if you didn’t talk about it, the memory would eat you up inside. “Not much. I remember Lilith possessing me and making me kill Dean.” You explained to the man. You could see Bobby’s face drop from the unexpected news that Sam must have not told him about your botched deal with the demon. “Oh, don’t worry. I was a hellhound’s chew toy right after. And then it’s nothing but darkness. Then I wake up six feet underneath the ground. And now here we are, as if nothing happened.”

Bobby fell silent right after hearing about the events that took place months before. Everything was still processing for him. Dean laid the dish towel over his shoulder and placed his hands on his hips for a moment. “Sam’s number’s not working. He’s, uh,” He trailed off for a moment when he looked over at Bobby to see how his brother was doing, yet he seemed a bit hesitant to hear the answer that might turn out the way he didn’t wanted. “He’s not…”

“Oh, he’s alive,” Bobby answered. “As far as I know.”

“Good.” Dean muttered with relief. He let out a breath and closed his eyes for a moment, you could see his lips stretching in a faint smile from hearing the news. But when he digested the last part of the older man’s sentences, his eyelids popped open, knowing there wasn’t something right about that sentence. “Wait. What do you mean—as far as you know?”

“I haven’t talked to him for months.” Bobby confessed, not sure what else he could say about the matter.

“You’re kidding?” Dean questioned the man. “You just let him go off by himself?”

Bobby shrugged his shoulders, “He was dead set on it.”

“You should have been looking after him.” Dean said with a rather harsh tone.

“I tried. These last months haven’t been exactly easy, you know, for him or me.” Bobby said. His voice was strict and equally harsh, proving the point that grief worked both ways. The man looked at you and the boys like you were his own children. Going through something this traumatic was hard enough as it was. “We had to bury you two.”

“I don’t want to break up this Hallmark moment, but I’ve got a question.” You said with a bit of curiosity. “Why did you bury us, anyway?”

“I wanted you both salted and burned—usual drill—but Sam wouldn’t have it.” Bobby said. You were happy the man had one that battle, knowing if there wasn’t a body, you might be standing here to have this conversation. “He said you’d both need a body when he got you back home somehow. That’s about all he said.”

Your eyebrows furrowed from how suspicious it sounded. “What do you mean?”

“He was quiet. Real quiet. Then he just took off. Wouldn’t return my calls.” Bobby explained. You let out the faintest sigh from hearing all of this. You looked over at Dean when the man continued to fill in the younger brother’s suspicious behavior that probably didn’t end up well for him. “I tried to find him, but he don’t want to be found.”

“Damn it, Sammy.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. His hand pressed itself against his forehead from frustration at what his brother had done. Bobby asked what was wrong, obviously not seeming to understand what the young man might have accomplished during his absence away. “Oh, he got us home okay. But whatever he did, it is bad mojo. You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off. Then there was this—this force, this presence, that, I don’t know, but it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this.”

You watched as Dean tossed the dish towel to the countertop, he shrugged off his button down shirt so he could slip out his left arm from the sleeve. When he pulled up the sleeve of his t shirt, your eyes widened slightly from what you saw at how strange, and creepy it was. There was an imprint of a hand burned on his skin, like someone had grabbed him. You cautiously stepped forward as Bobby examined the marking with even more confusion. This was nothing you’d seen before, and out of habit, you reached out an arm and lightly brushed your fingertips on the wound. But Dean didn’t flinch at all when you touched it. “What in the hell?” You whispered to him.

“Yeah, it’s like a demon just yanked me out or rode me out.” Dean said.

“But why?” You asked with a baffled tone. “Why us?”

“To hold up their end of the bargain.” Dean suggested, you furrowed your brow again.

“You think Sam made a deal?” You wondered.

Dean nodded his head, “It’s what I would have done.”

\+ + +

You lead Bobby and Dean upstairs to you office where you left it a mess; library books were cluttered around the place with papers you printed out last night about lore they didn’t need to know about right now. You gestured to your computer to Dean with a nod of the head, you closed a few books and tucked the papers into a neat pile without drawing their attention. With the last book shoved off to the side, you walked forward to Dean after he made himself comfortable on the new leather desk chair you’ve been letting collect dust since you first bought it years ago. Almost everything in the room from the desktop computer to your furniture was brand new. When your home got broken into right after you started hunting with the brothers, your home got broken into by a bunch of demons and they destroyed just about anything they could get their hands on. But with the life insurance money from your parents you almost never touched, everything was replaced.

Dean moved around the mouse, letting the computer come to life. Your lips stretched into a faint smile when he caught sight of the background picture you used. It was a picture of all of you when you were little children on Halloween, the year after Mary and your father died. Even though it had been a bitter time for everyone, all of you were bright-eyed and happy. “How’d you know Sam would use that name?” You asked Dean. He previously had been on the phone with a woman who worked at a cell phone company. A few minutes later, Dean had a lead of where his brother could have been hiding out for all these months after guessing right on one of their many alias.

“You kidding me? What don’t I know about that kid? I can track either one of you down. I’m like a bloodhound.” Dean mumbled. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle from the memory of you running off, back when you first made the deal. All though circumstances had been different, you were beginning to wonder if that’s what Sam did. Dean pulled up the website to track his brother’s cell phone, but his gaze lingered down for a moment when he noticed an empty bottle sitting right across from the computer. But that wasn’t the only one. He reached out a hand and picked it up the closest one. “What’s the deal with the liquor store, Y/N? Your parents out of town or something?“

You bit the inside of your cheek when you realized you’d forgotten to clean up the mess. It was a few days after coming back from Hell when you got cozy with the bottle. When the nightmares started, worse than the ones you had before about hunting or your parents, there was a need for something stronger to put you to sleep. "Uh, I…” You tried your hardest to come up with a decent answer, but your mind was coming up blank when you felt Dean and Bobby staring at you. You dropped your gaze to the screen when you saw it load to another page. You leaned forward slightly to see that it was a map, and of a familiar place you’d been in when you were buried with Dean. “Sam’s in Pontiac, Illinois.”

"Right near where the both of you were planted.” Bobby said with similar surprise.

“Right where we popped up. Hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?” Dean asked. He leaned back in the chair and stared at the screen. A second or two passed before he glanced up at you. “Hate to break you away from playing house, Y/N. But it looks like we’re going on a family road trip.”

\+ + +

It took you most of the afternoon to find the exact location where Sam was staying, even managing to track down the young man at a motel in town and the room number, where he’d been staying for the last few weeks. You packed about a week’s worth of clothes in a duffel bag and hoped it would be enough to last after you found Sam safe. If he didn’t bring you back from the dead, there was the smallest part of you that didn’t want to know right now. You just wanted to pretend that the evil things didn’t exist and you didn’t just spend four months in Hell. For a moment you wanted to pretend that you were normal, even if it was for the rest of the month. Who cares if a couple of demons wanted to see you again. You could kick their ass and send a few back to Hell where they belonged. You’d been brushing up on exorcisms and other techniques. You thought it was about time you knew how to do one yourself.

You grabbed the strap of the duffel bag and put the strap over your shoulder. As you reached out for your jacket and shoes, you heard the sound of someone knocking lightly on the opened bedroom door. You looked over to see that Josh was standing in the hall, all though he seemed a bit hesitant, you gave him a smile and dropped your bag to the bed. “Hey,” You said with a happy tone. “I was just about to call you. There’s been a change of plans.”

“Yeah. Dean told me.” Josh muttered with a bitter tone. You furrowed your brow from the reaction he gave you. He’d been pushing for you to try and see Sam again. So you were now wondering why it looked like he was sucking on a lemon as he continued discussing it. “Do you think you should really be going out again, Y/N? I mean, that little episode back there. I think it’s best if you just stay home until we figure out what’s going on.”

Your lips stretched into the faintest smile from his concern, “I’m fine, really.”

Josh fell silent from your answer he knew was a lie, but he didn’t say anything. You watched as he stepped into your bedroom, his eyes began roaming around to see that almost everything looked different from when you were teenagers, even the room itself. He probably thought it was weird that you moved into your mother’s old bedroom after she was murdered. The carpets were once stained in her blood and the air reeked of sulfur. But after you tore out the floors and repainted the walls, there was something about this place that made you feel like a little kid again. You felt closer to her, the good memories clouded your mind more than the bad one that sent your life tumbling down. And it was bigger with a perfect view of outside. Josh let out a quiet sigh, he couldn’t keep his personal thoughts inside anymore.

“I don’t think you should leave. I think it’s a bad idea for you just to throw yourself back out there. You just came back from the dead, Y/N. Again! Don’t you deserve a little break from everything?” Josh asks you. For a moment you fall silent. You know that he’s right, and it’s what you had been planning to do, but before you could even open your mouth, he continues. “I never see you anymore. And if I do, it’s because you got yourself in trouble—all thanks to those brothers. They do more harm than good when you’re around them.”

You let out a quiet sigh from the sudden stress he was putting on you. He wasn’t giving you a chance to explain. And as if things weren’t bad enough, another voice rang through your ears, like nails running down a chalkboard. You turned your head to the door when you heard his familiar footsteps creak on the wooden floors in the hall. Dean stood there for a moment to overhear Josh’s remark about him and Sam. You could see from the corner of your eye that Josh had no idea the man he’d been talking about was standing right behind him. Only when did Dean clear his throat, you had another petty fight was about to break out. “Y/N, you almost done?” He asked, breaking your other chance at trying to put this conversation to bed. You rolled your eyes and nodded your head. “Bobby wants to hit the road soon.”

You reached out a hand to grab the duffel bag again, knowing that it was his subtle hint that he was getting antsy. You barely touched the strap when you heard Josh let out the faintest scoff, and just like that, another argument broke through. “When am I going to see you again, Y/N? Six months from now?” Josh asked you, his tone was a little bit harsh. “At the morgue?”

Dean obviously was losing his patience with the man, and knowing him, the comment Josh had threw into the conversation was the final straw. You could see him open up his mouth, getting ready to start a fighting match, but you had lost your temper, yet again. “You know what? Zip it. Both of you!” You snapped at them. Like a bunch of children, you pointed a finger at them, waiting until they were silent for you to finish speaking. “Yeah, this lifestyle is pretty hectic and sometimes strange things happen. I wouldn’t haven’t any other way. But you know what I’m tired of? Having a couple of men tell me what to do. So why don’t the both of you shut the hell up and listen to me for once. I’m leaving with you, Dean, to make sure that Sam is safe. When that’s done, I’m coming back home for a week.”

"What—” Both of them started speaking at once, you quickly put your hand up.

"It’s my decision. And if you got a problem, both of you can kiss my ass.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. It sort of felt nice to stand up for yourself like that. When you looked at both of the men, you gave them a smile as you finally grabbed the strap of your duffel bag. “All right. Now that’s settled, it’s time to hit the road. I’ll see you in a few days, Josh.”

Josh rolled his eyes from hearing your final decision that wasn’t obviously something he wanted to hear. The man mumble out a goodbye as he began walking out of the room, leaving you and Dean to stand in your bedroom for a moment. You looked over at him when you felt him staring at you for the longest time. When you thought it was going to be an annoyed expression, you were a bit surprised to see him staring at you with the slightest smirk on his face. He stepped forward and was gracious enough to take the duffel bag from your hands. “Like I’m gonna let you out of my sights again, sweetheart.”

You let out the faintest scoff from what he said as your lips stretched into a faint smile. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip when you saw him coming in closer. It was strange, only doing it a few times, and all though you didn’t exactly know where you stood with Dean, you’d jumped on another chance to kiss him again. You closed your eyes, anticipating the sweet moment again, but before anything could happen, you both flinched when you heard Bobby’s voice echo from downstairs.

\+ + +

When you arrived into Illinois and tracked down the motel, it was later in the night. You were a bit nervous to see Sam again, wondering how he was going to react seeing two people back from the dead. You trailed behind Bobby and Dean as they headed for the end of the hall after getting directions from the person sitting at the front desk. When you saw the room number come into view, all of you stopped and stared at the door for a long second. Dean seemed the most nervous out all of you, almost hesitant to knock on the door. You stepped forward, squeezing yourself between the men and forced yourself to do it. You knocked a few times on the door and waited for a moment to see the familiar giant you’d missed. Only a second passed until someone did answer the door. But it wasn’t who you were expecting.

It was a woman. She was a petite brunette stood who in the doorway with an annoyed expression on her face, the both of you were expecting someone different. You furrowed your brow when you saw that she was dressed in tank top and no pants. “So, where is it?” She asked, you looked around wondering what the hell was going on.

“Where’s what?” Dean questioned back with confusion.

“The pizza that takes two guys and a girl to deliver.” She remarked back.

You gave her a faint smile, you reached up an arm to grab Dean by the shoulder. “I’m sorry. I think we must have gotten the wrong room.” You mumbled, your lips stretched into an awkward smile.

“Hey, is that—”

You looked away from the woman when you heard a male voice come from the other side of the room. The man you were looking at was the one you’d been dreading to see for this entire way up here. But when you saw him, you suddenly could feel the anxiety wash away. You could see him stare at his brother for the longest time in astonishment, maybe even a bit of fear for a moment, before his eyes wandered over to you. You nervously swallowed as you gave him a warm smile. He was your best friend, he had to know it was you. Dean broke the silence that was starting to feel tense. He walked into the room, squeezing himself past the woman, almost forgetting about the woman.

Dean gave his brother a small smile, “Hey, ya, Sammy.” You thought that would have been the exact moment the younger man realized you both were back. Only he reacted the way you did when you first saw Dean. He attacked his brother. Sam either was trying to play this part to cover his tracks, or he really didn’t know what was going on.

Bobby managed to intervene in time before Dean could get hurt from the knife that Sam took out. All though the younger man seemed heated and ready go along. His angered eyes bounced over to you, like you were a monster trying to mess with him. “It’s them. It’s them, Sam.” Bobby told the man. “I’ve been through this already twice now. It’s really them.”

Sam forced himself to take a few deep breaths. You watched as he started to calm down, the reality of the situation began weighing down in his facial expressions. He was hit with a wave of denial. The man did see you both suffer a gruesome death, after all. “But…”

“I know.” Dean said in a quiet voice. It was a serious tone for a moment, all before he cracked a joke to lighten up the mood. “We look fantastic, huh?”

It was a moment of silence from Sam, he was still working through the process, but he couldn’t help himself. You watched as the brothers embraced into a hug, a happy reunion for a family that almost spent each day together, but was broken apart from a tragedy that separated them for four long months. Your lips stretched into a smile from seeing them back together, it was a joyous moment that made almost everything worth it. They separated a moment later, leaving Sam to put his attention over to you. And not a second later, as if nothing happened, the both of you Sam took a giant step forward before he was wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into a bear hug. You wrapped your arms around his body and gave it a squeeze, showing how much you missed the man. He returned the favor by wrapping his arms tighter around your body without much thought. You suddenly realized he felt much, much stronger than you last remembered.

“Sammy, I love you and all. But you’re crushing me!” You managed to yell with what oxygen you had left in your body. Sam quickly stepped back from what you said, he gave you a crooked smile as he began mumbling out an apology. You shook your head as you took a step back to look at him. He seemed different from the last time you saw him. “God, I missed you.”

“So, are you guys like together?” You turned your head to see the girl was still standing there with the door open. You stared at her like she grew a second head from what she was talking about. “I saw this documentary about polyamorous relationships. I mean, is that your thing…?”

"What? No.” Sam said, you quietly laughed from her question as you looked over at him. He gave you a smile from the thought. “He’s my brother. And she’s my friend.”

“O-Oh. Got it. I guess.” She mumbled, pretending to understand. The woman looked at you and Dean for a moment before looking over at Sam, her finger pointed to the hall where she still stood. “Look, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s probably a good idea.” Sam said. “Sorry.”

The woman glanced over at you for a moment, you gave her a small smile, thinking she was still weirded out from everything that was happening. But when you realized she was still staring, you glanced down to see that you were stepping on her pants. You quickly stepped backwards and picked up the garment, handing it over to the woman. She gave you an awkward smile as she squeezed between you and Dean, making a run for the bathroom.

\+ + +

It was kind of strange to see Sam scurry around and get rid of any evidence he had a female companion over. Normally you would have seen Dean booting out a guest after enjoying each other’s company. You didn’t blame the man, these past few months must have been tough for him, and knowing these Winchesters, it was never hard to get a woman lured into their charm. You sat on the edge of the bed and warned as the woman and Sam awkwardly exchange smiles as she began walking to the front door after he opened it up for her. Now dressed, she headed out of the room slowly, as if she really didn’t want to leave. She glanced over at the three of you sitting in the back of the room, all before looking back at Sam, who was leaning against the doorframe. He gave her the slightest look of interest, yet still seeming polite.

“So, call me.” She said, hopefulness was practically dripping from her tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam mumbled as he nodded his head. “Sure thing, Kathy.”

You leaned off the bed slightly to see her face scrunch up, “It’s Kristine.”

Sam barely could force himself to make the effort to say an apology before he gave one last smile, and closed the door behind the woman. You watched as he turned around to see the three of you were staring at him, for what he thought was the unexpected behavior, only it was for another topic that had yet to be discussed. He walked forward to the other side of the bed and took a seat at the edge, making the mattress dip lower from the new added weight. You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced over at Dean, wondering if he was going to start the conversation, and from the look on his face, he seemed a bit too eager to get to the bottom of this problem.

“So, tell me,” Dean asked his brother, “what’d it’d cost?”

“The girl?” Sam chuckled from the false accusation. “I don’t pay, Dean.”

“That’s not funny, Sam.” You said, your tone becoming serious. He glanced over at you for the slightest second, but from what you were about to say next, he dropped his gaze to the floor, knowing the interrogation was about to begin. “He’s talking about bringing back. Now, what’d it cost? Was it your soul, or was it something worse?”

"You think I made a deal?” Sam questioned you in a rather harsh tone.

But you weren’t fazed by his little attitude he tried using on you, as if you just hit a nerve from the accusation. “That’s exactly what we think.” Bobby said, putting his own input in.

“Well, I didn’t.” Sam defended himself.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, Y/N.”

For a moment you could believe with the puppy dog eyes, the sincerity in his voice and how hard he would be begging you both up and down to believe him. The old Sam wouldn’t have given up this easily with some one worded answer. He only acted like this when had something to hide. You kept staring at him, waiting for the pressure to make him finally crack and tell the truth you already knew.

“So, what now? We’re off the hook, and you’re on, is that it? You’re so demon’s bitch boy?“ You looked over to see that Dean wanted to have his turn, he pushed himself off the wall and walked forward to his brother. "I didn’t want to be saved like this.”

“Look, Dean,” Sam jumped up from the bed and stood right across from his brother, wanting this problem solved once and for all. “I wish I had done it, all right?”

Dean roughly grabbed his brother by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, suddenly getting the urge to shake some sense into the younger man. You looked down to see that Dean’s knuckles were still bruised and torn to bits after fighting his way out of the grave. You tried cleaning the wounds best as you could before you left, but they seemed worse looking when he held his brother. “There’s no other way that this could have gone down.” Dean said. “Now tell the truth!”

“I tried everything. That’s the truth. I tried opening the devil’s gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal, all right?” Sam hissed at the older man. He roughly shoved his brother’s arms away as he gave a cold stare as he explained the endless amount of effort he’d put in to get the both of you out. “You two were rotting in Hell for months—for months—and I couldn’t stop it. So, I’m sorry it wasn’t me, all right? Guys, I’m sorry.”

There was no way he was lying anymore, the look in his eyes told it all. How guilty he felt each day for not getting you both out, no matter the endless tries, nothing worked. “It’s okay, Sammy.” You said, understanding his pain. It what drove you making that lead, landing you into this mess in the first place. “You don’t have to apologize. We believe you, we really do.”

“Don’t get me wrong—I am gladdened that Sam’s soul remains intact,” Bobby said, hating to be the one to bring back the infamous thought. “but that does raise a sticky question.”

“If he didn’t pull Y/N and me out, then what did?”

You swallowed from the question that began buzzing around in your mind again. You knew you weren’t taken out of Hell because you served only a few months. They wanted you down there, and someone like Dean, they weren’t going to let such an infamous name out of their grip. Whatever was behind this, you had a feeling it wasn’t going to end well when you got the answer.

\+ + +

There would be enough time to find out who pulled you and Dean from Hell. For now, you wanted to enjoy the reunion with Sam, tomorrow the hunt would begin again. You graciously accepted a cold beer from him when he came back from the mini fridge with a handful in the crook of his arm. You twisted off the top and threw it to the coffee table. Dean gave you an annoyed look when you accidentally hit him. You ignored him and you took a sip, Sam sat back down on the bed where you’d remained since arriving here.

“So, what were you doing around here if you weren’t digging us out of your graves?” Dean asked his brother, awfully curious to see how the man was spending these last few months.

“Well, once I figured out I couldn’t save you two, um, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback.” Sam admitted, you look at him with a bit of shock from the bold move. Even you knew from first hand of how dangerous she could be. You leaned backwards as you put a hand to rest your body, but your fingers brushed against something that felt silky, and too familiar in shape.

“Who do you think you are,” Bobby asked. “your old man?”

Sam realized he’d ignored the man for too long, gave him a weak smile as he tried apologizing for the unusual behavior. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Bobby.” He said. “I should have called. I was pretty messed up.”

“Oh, yeah.” You said. You realized what you had touched was a bra. Sam looked a bit mortified when you showed it off to everyone, the strap hanging off your index finger. You raised your brow, knowing he’d must have been really putting that grief to good use. “I really feel your pain.”

You flung the undergarment across the room, you sat back down and listened to what Sam was really doing these past few weeks. "Anyways, I was checking out these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere, they took a hard left, booked up here. Came up a few days ago. Strange thing was, another group of them had passed through a few weeks ago. But there’s no evidence they’re still in town. It’s like one was replaced with another.”

“Let me guess, two weeks ago?” You asked him, pretending to play along. Sam nodded his head as he took another swing of his beer. “Huh. When I get out, demons come strolling into town, they leave quick as I do. Another bunch make their way into town after Dean gets out. I don’t know about you guys, but there’s something’s wrong here.”

"You think these demons are here ‘cause of you two?” Bobby wondered.

“But why?” Sam asked, not getting the strange connection.

“I don’t know. Some badass demons drags us out, and now this? I mean, you know how crazy they were about wanting me in Hell and   
letting me go. But here we are.” You said. “It’s got to be connected somehow.”

“How you feeling, anyway?” Bobby’s question throws you off guard.

You think about it for a moment, “Fine, I guess. A little hungry…”

“No, I mean, do you feel like yourself?” Bobby asked, his tone was a bit hesitant. You let out a quiet sigh from the question, knowing it was dragging everyone’s attention to the topic you’d been trying to avoid. “Anything strange or different?”

“Or demonic?” You asked him, Bobby shrugged his shoulders, knowing you’d been the one who said it, not him. Sam glanced around the room from the sudden shift in atmosphere. You knew the little incident needed to be talked about. “I’m might not be made the natural way, but I’m not a demon. I did all the tests on myself. Holy water doesn’t hurt and salt is just a condiment. Iron doesn’t hurt and devil’s trap have no effect on me. Trust me, it’s only happened like—two times. Maybe it’s just a weird effect from being down there. But I swear, I’m me.”

“I believe you, do. But listen to me—no demon’s letting you two loose out of the goodness of their hearts. They got to have something nasty planned.” Bobby said. “Especially for you someone like you, Y/N.”

“Well, unless my head starts spinning when we do an exorcism, we don’t need to worry about it right now.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “I feel fine.”

“Okay, look, we don’t know what they’re planning.” Sam said, stopping an argument before he could break out. He focused you all on the more important topic. “We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help.”

“I know a psychic a few hours from here.” Bobby said. “Something this big, maybe she’s heard the other side talking.”

“Hell, yeah, it’s worth a shot.” Dean suggested, happy with the lead.

Bobby pushed himself off the couch and headed for the hall, he gave himself privacy as he pulled out his cell phone. You placed your bottle down to the coffee table when you made up an excuse for needing to use the bathroom. Sam pointed at the door that was cracked open the slightest, you gave him a smile of appreciation before you snuck off into the room. You closed the door shut and turned on the lights. You let out a sigh and walked to the sink, suddenly having a feeling this was going to be a long next few days. As you reached to turn the faucet for cold water, there was a sudden pounding inside your head, worse than a migraine. You winced from the pain as it felt like it was almost getting worse with each passing second. You closed your eyes and leaned your head down to the sink, hoping it was the brightness of the lights that was making your headache act up.

Your vision was darkness for the longest moment with the only sounds being your heavy breathing and the muffled voices coming from outside. But it’s the sudden screams of bloody murder than make you jump out of your skin, you can hear how terrified they sound. It lasts for a moment before it dies down to pitiful whimpers and pleads, like they’re begging for their life. You can’t help but feel they’re too familiar when you realize the voice is female. But just a second before you can put a finger on it, a blurry face flashes in your vision, all thought you can’t see well, you know it’s a man. And you can see the power in his eyes. Your hands wrap around the cold edges of the sink as the images become more violent and savage. You shake your head, trying your hardest to fight the feeling. The voice pleads for their life, but he keeps torturing, poking and chopping at whatever flesh remains on the body. Getting to hear the person beg for mercy is like music to his ears.

There’s a sudden crack coming from the mirror that sends you straight out of the hallucination. You opened up your eyes to see there’s a faint spiderweb of cracks at the bottom right hand corner of the mirror. When your eyes glance up at your reflection, you reach up a hand to wipe away the small trickle of blood that came running down from your nose again. You let out a shaky breath from what you’d done. Maybe it was a hallucination. Maybe you were starting to remember Hell. You let out a shaky breath as you wiped away the blood, knowing you couldn’t keep this act up for very long.

\+ + +

“She’s about four hours down the interstate.” Bobby explained to you and the boys. You followed down the staircase as the oldest man told you all about the psychic he’d contacted, and after telling her a brief summary, she was more than happy to help. Now all of you were heading out in the middle of the night to meet her. Bobby pulled his car keys out of his pocket and opened up the door. “Try to keep up.”

You waved a quick goodbye to the man as the rest of you headed further into the motel parking lot. You’d almost forgotten about the precious Impala until you saw the familiar car just sitting across the way. Your lips stretched into a grin when your hand reached out to touch the cold metal, familiarity coming back to you. “Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?” You turned your head to see that Dean was eying the details he’d missed. This was his home, and it was good to have him back behind the wheel. You opened up the door, enjoying the familiar squeaking sounds as you slipped into the backseat, Sam followed in suit by taking his spot in the passenger side. You glanced around to see that almost everything looked the same. But Dean noticed a small detail that instantly threw him off when he stared at it.

“What the hell is that?” Dean asked.

You furrowed your brow and looked forward, wondering what was getting his panties in a twist. You were looking around for any scratch or stain on the interior. Almost everything looked perfect, until you found his gaze staring at a piece of newer technology. “It’s an iPod jack. Oh, please tell me you know what it is.”

"Of course I do! I just want to know what the hell it’s doing in Baby.” Dean grumbled, his gaze lingering over to Sam. You couldn’t help but smile at how much he was overreacting. “You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up.”

Sam scoffed, “Dean, I thought it was my car.”

The oldest brother opened his mouth to make a remark, but the moment of silence that fell afterward, he knew there was nothing good to say. Sam might have been right about that. He shoved the key inside the ignition and turned the engine on, wanting to hear the sweet rumbles, but it only lasted a moment when the iPod came to life. Expecting some classic rock song, Dean was thrown off when he heard something that was way off for his taste. He looked over at his brother, Sam shrugged his shoulders. You began laughing from how quick Dean reached out a hand to rip out the iPod to make the music stop. But your laughing stopped when he threw the music player over his shoulder, barely missing you by a few inches.

\+ + +

Being back in the Impala with Sam must have been sleeping a bit easier. You managed to snag a few hours here and there during the ride. You heard bits of the conversation between the brothers about what happened after Dean passed away. Most of it didn’t seem too important, you were more focused on sleep until you arrived at your destination the next morning. You quickly fixed your hair and clothes, making sure you looked decent enough before following behind the ground and approached the house of the psychic named Pamela. Bobby knocked a few times on the door and waited just a moment before it opened up to reveal Pamela, who seemed ecstatic to see an old friend again.

“Bobby!” She shouted with a grin.

For a woman that looked to be just an average height and size, she sure did surprise you when she wrapped her arms around the man’s waist and pulled him into a hug. And lifted him a few inches off the ground like it was nothing before putting him back down. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He complimented the woman as she stood back. She gave him another smile as she glanced over at you and the brothers, her lips stretched wider.

“So,” She asked, “Are these the boys and their friend?”

“Sam, Dean, Y/N, Pamela Barnes.” Bobby introduced you all. “Best damn psychic in the state.”

You gave the woman a friendly smile and greeting when she examined each of you with the utmost curiosity, wondering what was going on herself. You could feel her gaze lingering on Dean and you for the longest amount of time, she gave you both another smile. “Dean Winchester and Y/N Y/L/N. Out of the fire and back into the frying pan, huh? Makes you a couple of rare individuals.”

“Oh, trust me,” You mumbled with a small laugh, “You don’t know the half of it.”

Pamela smirked at your response, “I always have time to learn something new. Now, come on in. We’ve got work to do.”

You walked into the house first, examining the interior of the place as everyone followed inside. You turned around and stood with your arms crossed over your chest. “So you hear anything?” Bobby asked as Pamela closed the front door when Sam stepped inside before her.

“Well, I ouija-ed my way through a dozen spirits.” She said. “No one seems to know who broke your kids out or why.”

“So, what’s next?” He asked her.

“A seance, I think.” Pamela suggested. “See if we can see who did the deed.”

Your face dropped slightly from the plan, “You’re not gonna summon the thing here, are you?”

“Relax. I just want to get a sneak peek at it,” Pamela explained, you could see her face stretching into an amused expression from your reaction. “Like a crystal ball without the crystal.”

You looked over the boys to see they seemed okay with the plan, all though Bobby was a bit hesitant, he went along. Everyone followed behind with Pamela into the next room to set up for the ritual. You didn’t want to stand around, feeling a bit useless, so Pamela had you run off into the next room to grab another chair for yourself when she realized you all were one short. Bobby turned his back so he could close the curtains after Pamela put down a black altar cloth down on the round table. After that, she headed across the room and crouched down to a lower cabinet where she grabbed a few candles. Little did Pamela realize her tank top had accidentally rode up, showing off her tattoo on her lower back where it said Jesse Forever in cursive. Dean, out of old habit, couldn’t help himself but look for a moment.

“Who’s Jesse?” Dean asked.

Pamela laughed at the old memory of an ex-lover with the permanent markings on her skin. She looked over her shoulder to see the brothers were staring, her eyes wandered over to Dean for a moment. “Well, it wasn’t forever.”

“His loss.” He commented.

She got up from the ground and walked over until she was standing next to the boys. “Might be your gain, unless,” Pamela’s lips stretched into a smirk as she heard footsteps coming from the other room. “One of you has something going on with a certain someone.”

Sam’s lips stretched into a smile, knowing who he was hinting at. “Don’t look at me. It’s him.”

She glanced over at Dean, he gave her a small smirk and shrugged. Everyone always seemed to know. “Well, better sink your teeth into her and fast. It’s not everyday you meet a woman who just crawled their way out of Hell. And without breaking a nail. Now that’s impressive, if you ask me.” Pamela said, her voice dropping to a whisper when she watched as you dropped the chair to the table. Dean noticed how your hand reached up to brush a piece of hair out of your face, only to catch the sight of your painted nails. Your knuckles still were a bit bruised, but it looked like you hadn’t crawled your way six feet underneath the ground. Only if he knew that you really didn’t. Pamela then glanced over at Sam, she lightly nudged and winked at him. “Invitation still stands with you, grumpy.”

A few minutes later, after making sure the lights were dimmed best as they could and the candles were set in the middle of the table, it was time to begin. You sat in the middle of Sam and Dean, waiting instructions from Pamela to start this process. She let in a deep breath and placed her hands on the table. “Take each other’s hands.” You did what you were told, making sure the circle wasn’t unbroken. You noticed Pamela’s right hand sneak underneath the table, you furrowed your brow from what she was doing, Dean was sitting right next to her. “And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched.”

You suddenly ripped your hand away when you felt the table jump up a few inches, Dean yelped out from the touch he wasn’t expecting. “Whoa! Well, he didn’t touch me there.” He said.

“My mistake.” She apologized, quietly laughing from his reaction.

You leaned forward so you were a few inches from Dean, “Need a moment?” You couldn’t help but joke as you playfully winked at him.

He let out a breath of frustration when he heard Pamela laugh a bit louder from what you said. You sat normally in your seat again when he took out his left arm of his flannel button up sleeve, leaving him partly in another t-shirt. You watched as he let out a quiet breath before reaching up a hand to show off the imprint that was still strange to look at. Sam stared at it with shock, not knowing what demon could have done that, but you all were about to find out. Pamela reached up a hand to cover the wound, you took that as your cue to link hands together again. When you realized this was happening, you sucked in a quiet deep breath, preparing yourself for what might happen. Just before Pamela began, you could feel Dean’s hand give yours a reassuring squeeze, reminding you that the both of you were going into this journey together. You watched as Pamela closed her eyes, everyone followed seconds after.

“I invoke, conjure, and command you—appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you—appear unto me before this circle.” Pamela began chanting the same line for a few times, but nothing seemed to be happening. Dean opened his eyes partly to see that nothing seemed to be happening. But as she continued pressing, that’s when things started happening. “I invoke—” Your eyes popped open when you heard the TV turn on by itself, only showing static. But when you began hearing this noise, a high-pitch ringing that was starting to irritate your ears. Your eyes quickly darted over to Pamela when you heard her speak, "Castiel?” Your face scrunched up when she fell silent for a moment, she was having a conversation with the creature. But more seemed like a warning she wasn’t going to follow. “No. Sorry, Castiel, I don’t scare easy.”

“Castiel?” You repeated after her.

“Its name. It’s whispering to me, warning me to turn back.” She said. You looked over at Dean with worry, wondering if she should stop this before she could get herself hurt. But Pamela was true to her word, she pressed further, wondering how far she could push for answers. As she continued with the chant, you could hear the ringing get louder as the table began to violently shake. You let out a quiet breath, closing your eyes again. “I conjure and command you—show me your face. I conjure and command you—show me your face. I conjure and command you—”

But you had a gut feeling that this wasn’t going to end well. You opened your eyes back up again to see Bobby the boys were sharing the same worried look as the table kept shaking. “Maybe we should stop.” Bobby said, knowing you’d all gotten far enough.

“I almost got it.” Palmea said, not wanting to quit so soon. But she didn’t know what dire consequences that laid ahead when she poked at the beast. “I command you—show me your face. Show me your face!”

You watched as the lit candles suddenly sparked a larger fire when Pamela got what she wanted. But the sudden scream of pain quickly brought your attention over to her, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head from what you saw happen. The woman screamed on the top of her lungs as her eyes were burned out of her skull, leaving nothing but a bloody trickle of tears as she closed her eyes just seconds later. You didn’t realize it was done until you heard her body drop to the ground, breaking you all out of your shock.

Sam jumped out of chair as he pulled out his cell phone, calling for an ambulance quick as he could. Everyone else stumbled to the floor, wondering what happened to Pamela. Bobby picked the woman up from the ground where she laid unconscious for a moment, where you could see her eyelids were bloody and scabbed over, your mouth parted open to see the trickles of blood. She began coming back around as the pain hit, and out of horror, you gasped in shock when she opened up her eyes—only to see there was nothing there. Her pretty blue eyes were gone. All that remained was just two empty eye sockets, black and charred that was once human flesh.

“I can’t see. I can’t see!”

Your fingernails dug into the flesh of your palm when you began to hear her terrified screams of pain and shock from the sudden disability of her senses. Whoever this Castiel was, he sure wasn’t a force to be taken lightly. Or maybe, not even at all.

\+ + +

You and the brothers headed back into town after you watched Pam get taken off to the hospital with Bobby. By the time you’d arrived it was late afternoon, and no matter how much guilt you were feeling, you all needed something to eat. You sat in the diner chair with your legs crossed as your foot that hung in the air began to automatically start wiggling out of a nervous habit. Your eyes wandered over to the room where Sam stood as he took a call from Bobby to hear the update on the woman. Dean was ordering dessert to help lighten up the mood up a bit. You look away from Sam when he got done with the phone call and starts heading over. When you see the waitress had taken down the order, she gives you all a polite smile and heads off. You barely gave Sam a second after he said goodbye to Bobby as he sat down in his chair before you were asking for the update on the poor woman.

“What’d Bobby say?” You asked with a rushed tone.

“Pam’s in stable condition.” Sam explained. “And out of ICU.”

“Yeah. You forgot to mention she’s blind because of us.” You mumbled. You began sitting normally as your eyes wandered around the diner, suddenly subconscious, as if someone was watching you all. But everyone continued to enjoy their meal as if they didn’t hear anything. “And we still don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with.”

“That’s not entirely true, Y/N.” Dean said. You raised your brow from what he said, you glanced over at him as you began wondering what he was going to say next. Only it was the stupidest thing you’ve heard since coming back from Hell. The plan was almost like he was begging to go back, biting the hand that fed him. “We got a name—Castiel or whatever. With the right mumbo jumbo, we could summon him, bring him right back to us.”

You let out a forced laugh, “You’re crazy, Dean. Absolutely not.”

“We’ll work him over.” Dean said. “I mean, after what he did?”

“Pam took a peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull,” You reminded the man. “And you want to have a freaking face-to-face? No, you’re not doing it.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “You got a better idea, Nancy Drew?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Sam said, putting his voice into the conversation. You glanced over at him, wondering what master plan he had in, hoping it wasn’t stupid as his brother’s plan. “I followed some demons to town, right? So we go find them. Someone’s got to know something about something.”

Sam dropped his voice lower when he saw the waitress come back with three plates of pie. Of course Dean would order this. You gave her a smile as you mumbled a thank you when she put the plate in front of you. As you reached for the fork to take a bite, you glanced up to see that she didn’t hesitate to take a right right across from you at the table. She leaned back in the seat and let out a sigh. You barely gave her a smile before you were looking over the boys, wondering what the hell was going on. “You angling for a tip?” Dean asked with a small smile.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “I thought you were looking for us.”

You didn’t know what she was talking about. Only until what she did next. You could feel your grip around the metal fork tighten when you saw her eye color change, right to the infamous shade of black. And it looked like she wasn’t alone. You glanced away from the waitress she was possessing to see that everyone in here was wearing an extra passenger. The customer sitting at the counter got up from his chair and walked to the door, you could hear the lock click into place, and for an extra precaution, he stood in front of the door, like you were just gonna up and leave.

“Dean and Y/N, to Hell and back.” You glanced back over at the waitress, only to see her eyes were fixated on you with a smirk. “Aren’t you a lucky duck?”

“That’s us.” Dean said, the demon glanced over at him for a moment.

“So, you two get to just stroll out of the pit, huh? Tell me,” The demon’s tone of voice shifted as she asked you both a question. You can tell for someone like her, this was getting under her skin to see two people roaming around like nothing happened. “What makes you two so special?”

“Well,” Dean’s answer made a chuckle come out from your lips faster before you could catch it, piss off the demon even more. “I like to think it’s because of my perky nipples and Y/N’s sparkling personality.”

You watched as the waitress stared at Dean with the coldest expression When she caught your eyes upon her, she glanced over at you, waiting for a real answer. You licked your lips at how threatening she was trying to make herself be. But you weren’t scared of her. “We don’t know. It wasn’t my doing or his. So you can keep glaring at us until we both drop dead again. Truth is, we don’t know who pulled us out.”

“Right. You don’t.” She answered with a sarcastic tone. “Lying is a sin, you know.”

“Did I stutter? I’m not lying.” You said, your voice was dropping to a harsher tone. She obviously didn’t like it, but when she heard the slightest sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the demon noticed the brothers were giving her a threatening glare. You had the upperhand here for the moment. “But I’d like to find out. So if you wouldn’t mind enlightening me, Flo.”

"Mind your tone with me, girl.” She threatened you. “I’ll drag you back to Hell myself.”

You could see the brothers take that as the final straw as they were about to jump out of their chairs to start a fight. But before they could, you quickly put up your hand, stopping them before anyone could get hurt. You glanced back over at the demon, wanting to see how far you could push her. “No, you won’t.” You said. She raised her brow from your doubt as she gave you a look, as if she was asking for you to continue on. But you weren’t the slightest bit scared. “Because if you were, you’d have done it already. The fact is, you don’t know who cut us loose. And you’re just as scared as we are. And you’re looking for answers. Maybe it was some spirit. Or maybe it was Godzilla. But do you want to know what my best guess is?”

The demon shrugged, “Please. Enlighten me.”

“Maybe some big, bad boss demon took a liking Dean and I. But I’m guessing at your pay grade they don’t they don’t tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they want me out, and they’re all lot stronger than you and your little friends.” You said. You watched as she just stared at you. It must have been true because she wasn’t saying anything. “So, go ahead. Send us back. But don’t come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some vaseline and a fire hose.”

"You know, I would’ve expected such a vulgar impression from Dean. But I guess the pit changed you. That innocent act is gone, you’re not the same. You’re nothing but a little whore. After all, you keep letting life screw you over—again and again.” She said, taking her chance of hitting low. You gave her a deathly glare, she gave you a smirk of confidence. “And a bit of advice, you ever talk to me like that again, I’ll reach down your throat and rip out your lungs.”

Your teeth sank down to your bottom lip from what she called you. But before you could think of a comeback, Dean leaned in his seat, deciding to have his chance at the demon. His lips stretched into a smirk as he stared at her for the longest moment, and while she expected another threat, what he did next was out of sheer anger. You could see his hand reach up from the table and backhanded the demon, so hard you could hear the sound echo through the diner. She stood there for a second before she snapped her neck forward, but Dean wasn’t done. He slapped her again, only harder, making her neck awkwardly twist at an angle that seemed almost painful. The demon took a moment to stand there in the position, only before she quickly snapped her neck back to normal. She let out a breath and finally looked back at him, only there was no insult or threat good enough to top what he did to her.

“If you even think about using that language on her again, I’ll cut your tongue out.” Dean hissed at the demon, letting her know he wasn’t playing. She let out a sharp breath, but she still remained silent. "That’s what I thought. Let’s go, guys.” You glanced over at the demon to see if she was going to try anything, but she just stared at the wall, pretending as if nothing happened. You pushed your chair out and followed behind Sam to the front door. Dean shoved a hand inside his pocket and fished out some money, he dropped a ten dollar bill on the table. “Can’t forget to tip for the crappy service.”

You glanced over your shoulder when you heard footsteps approaching from behind. Dean nodded his head forward when he knew it was time to get out of here. Sam unlocked the door and walked out first, you followed as Dean trailed behind you in the outside. When you were clear of any demons, you realized what you had said. You were lucky enough to be walking out of here alive without a scratch on your body. But the way she threatened you, it was almost as if she was scared to see what would happen. Maybe there was a demon with a heart of gold who wanted to help. Or he was bringing you back from the dead because he wanted something. You looked both ways before you began walking across the street with the boys in sync.

“Holy crap,” You muttered underneath your breath. “That was close.”

“We’re not just gonna leave them in there, are we, guys?” Sam questioned the both of you.

“Well, yeah. There’s three of them, probably more. Thanks to Y/N’s charm, they’re probably even more pissed off.” Dean said as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Plus, we only got one knife between us.”

“I’ve been killing a lot more demons than that, lately.“ Sam said, as if he was ready for a challenge.

“Not anymore.” You said, glancing up at him. “The smarter one is back in town.”

"Y/N, we got to take them.” Sam argued with you. “They are dangerous.”

“They’re scared, okay?” Dean jumped into the conversation, siding with you about what plan of action to take. “Scared of whatever had the juice to yank me and Y/N out. We’re dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time.”

\+ + +

Research seemed more like a daunting task, like finding a needle in a haystack, there was no demon you could find the name with Castiel. You and Dean spent hours sitting on the pullout couch and tried looking for anything that could explain what was going on. But one thing lead to another and you ended up passing out with a book opened in your lap. You accidentally leaned yourself against Dean’s shoulder as you slept peacefully, Dean soon followed after when resting his eyes turned into a deep slumber. Neither one of you seemed to notice Sam sneaking out the motel door when he got the chance to do what he wanted. About a half an hour passed until things started getting strange around the room. The TV turned itself on, but there was nothing playing, just a screen of static. Then the clock radio began flipping through stations back and forth, muffled and gibberish voices woke Dean up first from his slumber.

He reached up a hand to wipe away the sleep from his eyes, still in a daze, Dean began wondering if you turned the TV on and started playing around with the radio for music. But when he glanced over to see you were still lying there, sleeping with no disturbance from the noise, he knew something was wrong. He slowly shifted himself off of you trying not to wake you, but you seemed to not be fazed as you mumbled out something before rolling over to your side. Dean took a breath in before he shifted off the bed, making sure to grab the shotgun for safety. You were still trying to find sleep again, but when you heard that familiar high pitched ringing, along with all the other foreign noises, you shifted around in bed until you were sitting up straight. You saw that Dean was standing with his back to you as he cautiously began walking to the motel door.

Feeling that something was wrong, you got out of bed to see what was going on. You walked forward until you were standing behind him. You quieted your breathing when you began wondering if the demon was here. Perfect time, too. Sam was gone as you glanced around the room. But as you two got closer, that’s when the ringing began to grow louder. It gotten to the point where you had to cover your ears with your palms, hoping it would stop. But it only grew more intense until you both were down on your knees from the pain. You suddenly could hear the sounds of glass cracking, as you glanced up, you noticed the mirror hanging on the ceiling started cracking, in ways that wasn’t leaving a good feeling in your stomach. But before the shards could go falling down, you jumped in surprise when you heard the window shatter from the noise, sending glass to fly through the air. Your palms pressed harder as the noise only intensified. The The demon must have been trying to make your eardrum burst because you could feel blood starting to come out from your ear canal.

You didn’t seem to know what was happening next before you felt Dean roughly grabbed you and threw you against the floor, accidentally making the shards of glass dig into your skin. But you knew what he was trying to do when he shielded your body was his own. Seconds later, you heard the mirror come crashing down, barely hitting you both. You closed your eyes and prayed that the glass wouldn’t hit either one of you. Glass rained down everywhere, the noise was making every glass window and mirror break. You wanted to cry from how painful it was from the shards that dug deeper into your skin and the noise that felt like someone was putting so much pressure inside your head, like they were trying to make your brain explode. During the attack, you didn’t seem to notice the front door opened to reveal Bobby, you couldn’t hear him shout out your names from how loud everything was. But it seemed with his presence in the room, everything stopped just seconds after. You laid on the ground for a moment, trying to catch your breath.

\+ + +

Worst case of tinnitus, ever. You rubbed your finger inside your ear one more time, trying to get the last of the blood out so you could hear people properly. But it was gonna be hard from the obnoxious ringing and pounding headache that didn’t go away after you nearly downed a bottle of asprin to make the pain go away. You sat in the backseat of Bobby’s car with Dean in front, you didn’t know where Sam was, but he took the Impala. You were enjoying the silence for a moment as the ringing began to slowly go away. It was quiet enough so you could hear what Bobby said.

“How you doing, kids?”

“Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy” Dean mumbled, getting the last bit of blood from his ears as he dropped the cloth to his lap. He slipped a hand inside his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Punching in a number, he put the phone to his ear when it began ringing for a moment before his brother picked up. “Hey. What are you doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Sam said. “Went to get a burger.”

“In my car?” Dean asked, seeming a bit annoyed.

“Force out habit, sorry.” Sam muttered. “What are you doing up?”

“Well, uh, Bobby’s back. We’re all going to grab a beer, Y/N, too.” Dean said, making up a lie. You and Bobby gave the man a look from what he was doing, but when you heard Sam on the other line, it seemed he bought the lie. “Done. Yeah. I’ll catch you later.”

You watched as he closed his cell phone, ending the conversation with his brother. You barely gave him a second before you leaned forward in your seat. “Why the hell didn’t you tell him?”

“‘Cause he’d just try and stop us.” Dean simply said.

You furrowed your brow, “From what?”

“Summoning this thing.” He said. You were now looking at the man like he grew a second head when he said that line. You quickly shook your head, knowing well enough you didn’t want to get deeper into this mess. He burned Pam’s eyes out of her skull, and with the scene back at the motel, you had a feeling you all were dealing with something powerful demon. More than either one of you ever faced before. “It’s time we face it head on.”

“Dean,” You nearly hissed the man’s name, “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” Dean said. “It’s high noon, baby.”

"We don’t know what it is.” Bobby said, trying to be the voice of reason here. “It could be a demon. It could be anything.”

“That’s why we got to be ready for anything.” Dean argued. He reached a hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out Ruby’s demon knife he must have stolen off his brother. “We got the big-time magic knife. You got an arsenal in the trunk.”

Bobby shook his head, “This is a bad idea.”

“I couldn’t agree more with you and Y/N, but what other choice do we have?”

“We could choose life.”

“Y/N, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it’s after us–that much we know, right?” Dean asked. You let out a quiet sigh before you nodded your head in agreement . “Well, we got no place to hide. We can either get caught with our pants down again, or we can make our stand.”

“Dean,” Bobby spoke up, “We could use Sam for this.”

“Nah,” The younger man brushed off the suggestion. “He’s better off where he is.”

\+ + +

Nothing good happens in the middle of nowhere. Bobby decided that if you all were going to summon this demon, you weren’t going to do it without adding a few precautionary steps. He found an empty barn that he kept for hunting reasons, probably for hideouts and interrogations for not so chatty monsters. You and Dean occupied yourselves by lugging in as much of the weapons from the trunk and brought them inside, bringing a pretty hefty looking collection that was making you a bit more confident if you were going to go through this. You took a step back away from the tables as you looked over to see that Bobby was finishing up the last of the symbols he’d spray painted on almost every inch of the walls and concrete looks. From devil’s traps to protective signs, you were about ready for anything that was going to walk through the door. Still, you were nervous for this outcome. Finding out answers didn’t always lead to a happy ending sometimes.

“That’s a hell of an art project we’ve got going on here, Bobby.” You said.

You crossed your arms over your chest as he walked back over to you and Dean, Bobby placed down the spray can back down on the table as he examined his hard work. “Traps and talisman from every part of the globe.” He said. You could see his eyes wander away from the walls and to your worried face. You let out a quiet sigh from his question. “How you two doing?”

“Stakes, iron, silver, salt, the knife—I’m mean, we’re pretty much set to catch and kill anything I’ve ever heard of.” Dean said, his arm gesturing over the amount of weapons that he laid around.

“This is still a bad idea.” You muttered underneath your breath.

“Yeah, Y/N, I heard you the first ten times.” Dean said, he let out a sigh of annoyance from your constant paranoia that was getting on his nerves. You glanced over at him with a look spreading across your face, letting it be known you weren’t taking his You cleared your throat from the snark you weren’t in the mood to hear. You raised your brow when he glanced over at you, as if he wanted to continue this conversation with the same attitude that you weren’t in the mood to deal with. He shifted the conversation away from the both of you to Bobby, wanting to get this started before you could back out. “What do you say we ring the dinner bell?”

Bobby seemed hesitant at first to start this, he glanced over at you for a moment to see if you wanted to continue. You let out a sigh and nodded your head, knowing there was no going back now. Bobby walked over to the other table to begin the summoning ritual. You snatched the demon knife and looked over at Dean, shaking your head before walking over to the other side of the table. If you were going to face this creature, you wanted something that would be a surefire way to kill him before he could do it first to you.

\+ + +

An hour passed after the ritual was completed and there was no big, bad demon knocking down the door. You sat on the edge of the table with Dean leaning next to you, he softly whistled to pass the time as you twirled around the demon knife, your nervousness was now growing into boredom from nothing that was happening. Almost every worse case scenario ended with you all being torn to bits and pieces because of this monsters, but waiting for him to show up might be the real death of your curiosity to find out who he was.

“You sure you did the ritual right?” Dean asked Bobby. The man tilted his head and gave Dean an expression, he put up a hand to stop a lecture from happening. “Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?”

You gave Dean a slight smack on the shoulder from his last comment. As the room fell silent for a moment, you barely got to let out a breath from the waiting game, because it was just about to end. You quickly glanced up to the ceiling when you heard the wind howling outside, it was beginning to pick up louder and quicker. Suddenly the shutters that were barely clinging on to the roof started rumbling about, making all sort of ruckus. You glanced down at the other men as your grip on the knife handle tightened, it was showtime. Bobby and Dean began to cautiously observed around the place as they grabbed the loaded shotguns with rock salt. You jumped down from the table and looked over at the door to see a large piece of thick plywood was acting like a barrier. You had a feeling it wasn’t going to keep him out for very long. If this was his way of showing off with a dramatic flare, you didn’t want to know what else he was capable of.

“Wishful thinking,” You said, your voice having to grow louder as you tried speaking over the loud banging noises that wouldn’t quit. “But maybe it’s just the wind.“

And if the rumbling wasn’t enough to spook you all, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the lightbulb above your head burst, sending shards of broken glass to rain down on your head. You quickly covered your face for protection when an attack of lightbulb shards and sparks began flying around in the air. When demons came for a visit, lights flickered rapidly, but never did you see this happen, they didn’t just explode. Your heartbeat began pounding inside your chest. Among all of the chaos that seemed to be sprung up on you, the distant sound of wood breaking caused you to look forward, and between the cracks of your fingers, you see the doors swing open to see he arrived.

The first little detail you could make out about the monster was color, you could see shades of a tanish brown and hues of blue. You stood up straight to see he looked nothing more than just a normal human being; he was dressed in a trench coat and a suit, but with his tie undone. He seemed more like a business man that got off from a stressful day at work than a monster. And he walked so casual across the room like nothing was holding him back. Nothing fazed him. Not the rock salt when Bobby and Dean began shooting at him. Not even the traps held him back. You gripped the demon knife tighter as he walked closer and closer to you all until he was standing right across from Dean. He stood there for a moment in the silence, and even in the darkness, you could still make out his features from the body he chose. He’d had a messy head of hair and somehow the softest pair of blue eyes for a demon, you waited for them to turn black. But he just stood there, seeming more like a human, and not the monster you’d presumed he’d be.

Dean’s voice brought you back into the reality of the situation, and made you realized you were staring at the man. He couldn’t help himself anymore, the important question was asked. “Who are you?”

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition, Dean.” The man spoke with a deep, raspy sort of voice. He acted like he’d done the man a virtuous favor.

“Yeah,” You muttered with sarcastic in your tone. You took a step forward with the demon knife hidden behind your back, needing the element of surprise from what you were about to do. You could see his eyes wander away from Dean and to you. His brow furrow just the slightest, almost like he wasn’t expecting to see you. When he was taken off guard, you took your chance. "Thanks for that.”

You plunged the knife deep into his chest, using all the force in your body so it would land directly into his heart. You let out a breath as you waited for him to collapse on the floor and die, but the opposite happened. The man just stood there, his facial expressions turned into an amusement as he glanced down at the knife that stuck out from his chest. Your eyes widened in fear from what happened next. He looked over at you, making sure to keep eye contact from what he did. You watched as he took a hold of the knife and ripped it out of his body without effort, just a second later, the demon knife dropped to the ground with a loud clack to the floor.

But you all had another trick up your sleeve. Bobby quietly crept on the man from behind, and just as he swung the iron bar to knock the man out, it seemed like another challenge he wasn’t afraid to win. The stranger grabbed a hold of the bar and faced Bobby. You could see his free arm reach out, and with two fingers, he pressed them against the hunter’s forehead. Just a second later, you saw Bobby slowly collapse to the floor, the iron bar falling from his grip. You nervously swallowed when you tore your eyes away from Bobby, and to the monster who put him that way.

“We need to talk, Dean.” The stranger said. His eyes wandered over to you. “Alone.”

You scoffed when you heard him say that, knowing there was no way in hell you would letting Dean out of your sight. You weren’t afraid of the man as you walked across the room and to Bobby, you glanced over at him, wondering if he was going to try and do something, but he just stood there, just watching you. You dropped to your knees and pressed a finger against his neck and waited a moment until you heard a faint heartbeat. But just as you did, the man spoke up to clear a few things up. “Your friend is alive, Y/N.”

You looked over your shoulder to see that he was now curiously going through the belongings until he settled on a book. While he began slowly searching through the pages, you stood back up and walked over to Dean. You nodded your head to give him a signal Bobby was still breathing.

“Who are you?” You asked the man.

“Castiel.” He answered.

“Yeah. We figured that much.” Dean said with a harsh tone. “I mean what are you?”

Castiel looked up from the book he was examining and stared at you both with a bit of surprise. It was like he wasn’t expecting to explain himself. “I’m an angel of the Lord.”

“Right.” Your lips stretched into a faint smile from the answer. “And I’m the Devil himself.”

You could feel Dean give you a rough nudge in your side from the answer. Castiel’s lips stretched into a faint smile, seeming to have gotten the sarcasm, or maybe not. “Not quite. But considering of how you came about, I wouldn’t exactly call you a human. And yet what brought you into this world is also the exact reason why you’re here again.” You furrowed your brow from what he was saying, and the confusion seemed to be clear enough for him to see. "Oh. I see you’re confused about the matter. Why, I didn’t save you, Y/N. My kind have no use for someone like you, unlike Dean. Of course, we will never understand the lengths of humans will go to save one another. You can thank your father for bringing you back.”

“Last time I checked dead men can’t make deals.” Dean said, not falling for whatever the man was saying. “And there’s no such thing as angels.”

Castiel closed the book he was observing and pushed it away. He turned around to face you and Dean, his lips stretched into the faintest smile. “This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.”

The sudden shift in weather made your eyes wander up to the ceiling for a moment with the rumble of thunder erupted out of thin air, with flashes of lightening crackling away. But when you glanced back over at Castiel, the sight was something you’ve never seen before. You’ve heard of angels having fluffy, soft white wings. But what you saw was different. He stood there with a shadow behind him, black as night, yet you could see it was what they truly were, the wings of an angel. Your mouth parted open as you stared at the sight with such strange curiosity, yet when you blinked, Castiel stood there again, as if nothing happened. While you seemed taken back, with being just a few feet from such a famous creature you’d only heard about in religion and lore, you’d never thought they were real. Dean pretended not to be fazed from what he’d just seen, knowing what Castiel had done, he wasn’t going to let him forget.

“Some angel you are.” Dean muttered. “You burned out that poor woman’s eyes.”

“I warned her not to spy on my trueform.” Castiel explained. You watched as he took a few steps forward to you and Dean. “It can be overwhelming to humans and so can my real voice…but you two already knew that.”

“You mean the gas station and the motel? That was you talking?” Dean asked, Castiel nodded his head. “Buddy, next time, lower the volume.”

“That was my mistake. Certain people—special people—can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. Even someone like you, Y/N.” Castiel said, you could feel his eyes wander over to you for a moment. “I was wrong.”

“And what visage are you in now?” You asked him. “What—holy tax accountant?”

“This?” Castiel glanced down as he grabbed the trench coat for a moment. “This is a vessel.”

“You’re possessing some poor bastard?” Dean asked him, a bit of shock in his tone.

Castiel smiled, “He’s a devout man. He actually prayed for this.”

“Look, pal, I’m not buying what you’re selling.” Dean said, cutting right to the chase. “So who are you, really?”

“I told you.”

“Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?”

Castiel stared at the man, almost like he was finding his doubt amusing. He took a step forward, getting closer to him until he was a foot away. “God things do happen, Dean.”

“Not in my experience.” Dean argued back.

“What’s the matter?” Castiel asked, his eyes narrowing at the man for a moment. He tilted his head to the slight the slightest before he answered his own question. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”

Dean gave the angel a hardening glare, “Why’d you do it?”

Castiel’s answer wasn’t what either one of you were expecting. This made everything come full circle, and make you question everything you believed. “Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you, Dean.”

Dean’s jaw tightened from what he was hearing, his mind nearly screaming at him to believe this was a lie. Everything was happening way too quick. He could believe a demon yanked him out, for whatever dirty deed they wanted done. But he was broken out of his thoughts when he watched as Castiel took another step forward, he was getting closer to you. He reached out a hand, and with two fingers, he pressed them against his forehead, like how he did to Bobby. Instead of drifting into an unconscious state, in the blink of an eye, you were gone. Vanished from his sight.

“What the hell? Y/N?” Dean called out your name, panic rising in his voice. His eyes jumped around the room as he looked around to see where you could have gone. But you weren’t around, no trace to tell of where you could have gone. He quickly reached out and grabbed ahold of the angel by the collar of his dress shirt. “What the hell did you do to her, you son of a bitch?”

“I simply gave her the answers she was looking for.” Castiel answered, still remaining calm about everything. “Like I said, Dean, we have work for you. And someone like Y/N poses too much of a distraction for you. And we can’t have that.“

\+ + +

The room around you felt like it was spinning way too fast. Your vision was blurry as you came back from consciousness. You didn’t know what was going on, the only thing on your mind was trying not to vomit on your couch. Wait, this wasn’t right. You closed your eyes and ran your fingers over the soft fabric until they hit the throw pillows. Sucking in a deep breath, you slowly opened your eyes, thankful that the room seemed to be standing in one place, but you weren’t pleased to see that you were sitting in your living room. Not in the middle of the barn with Dean to hear what the hell was going on. All you remembered was meeting Castiel, only he wasn’t the demon you’d thought he was, turns out, he claimed to be an angel. A creature you’d thought for so long that didn’t exist. He’d saved Dean from Hell—but not you.

The sounds of footsteps walking across the wooden floors made the old house creak and groan, your thoughts were cut off from the sudden noise you weren’t expecting. You nervously swallowed as you pushed yourself off the couch when you heard the noises coming from upstairs. You weren’t going to make the false mistake of calling out a name as you began walking forward, as you passed by, you snatched a fire iron from the rack for protection. You didn’t know the last time when you used the fireplace, but the equipment sure did come in handy. As you began to walk forward and up the staircase, you avoided the squeaky parts to keep the element of surprise. You really didn’t know what you were expecting to see a demon here to kill you, or this was Castiel’s way of messing with you.

You cautiously walked down the hall when you heard the noises growing louder until you saw they were coming from your bedroom. You took in a quiet breath as you reached out a free hand to open the door. Light flooded the hall when you noticed the lamp was on, but your eyes drifted over to see who the intruder was. When you noticed the face, you could feel the fire iron slip out of your grip and clatter right to the ground, making a loud noise. The stranger across the room looked away from what he was holding to see you stand there. But he wasn’t a stranger at all.

You furrowed your brow from what you were seeing, not sure if it was some hallucination that you were seeing. You closed your eyes, making yourself believe that he wasn’t real. After a moment of standing there in darkness, you opened them up, only to see him still standing there. It almost seemed like it was too good to be true. But when his lips stretched into a smile, the warm kind you remembered from the home movies and photographs, your stomach fluttered. He stood there in the light to show off his wrinkled skin and hair color that matched yours. With a beard that always scratched against your cheek when attacked you with kisses as a child. He was the man you had remembered as Andrew, your father. And there he stood, as if nothing happened.

When you blinked, his face suddenly turned different, like a monster. It was almost like the ones you could see back at the diner when you realized you were dealing with the demons. You saw them for who they truly were. This happened before when you were getting closer to the end of your deal. But a lot of strange things were happening to you tonight, like finding out angels were real and your father was being possessed by a demon. You blinked again, only to see his face was back to normal. He was now staring at you with concern. “Y/N? Is that you?” You didn’t respond, your actions did. Before he could take a step forward or even say something else, you bolted out of there without even giving him a second to explain what was going on.

You knew the best place to hide was the kitchen, that was where the salt and another phone remained hidden. You ran fast as you could, jumping down steps of stairs until you zoomed into the kitchen and headed for the pantries. But with your luck, you couldn’t remember where you put the damn salt. You furiously opened and closed cabinets trying to find where it could be, but when you heard your name, you knew he was standing right behind you. Without thinking, you quickly reached out a hand for the collection of knives you kept for cooking. You pulled out the biggest one and faced him, your arm drawn out for your protection as you waved around the blade with a shaky grip. But he seemed like he didn’t want to hurt you when he drew back his arms into a defensive pose. The look in his eye seemed humane, like he had emotions other than destruction.

“Y/N, please.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Just—Just let me explain.”

"Prove it.” You spoke to him in a quiet tone, and even though it shook, you weren’t scared. “Tell me something to prove that you’re really him. Tell me what the hell is going on!”

“Your name is Y/N Y/L/N, your mother’s name is Ella. The three of us used to live in Lawrence, Kansas with the Winchesters with our next door neighbors. Do you remember them? You and Dean had a playdate the day I died, when my deal your mother made was up.” You could feel your breathing becoming heavier when he continued, the details making a faint memory cross your mind. His lips stretched into a smile. “I remember when Ella and I put you to bed, she’d forgotten to do laundry, you and him tired her out. So I had to put you in one of my shirts. And—And I remember how you wanted me to read you a story, but I was so tired. So I promised you read you two the next night. But…that never happened.”

You dropped your hand to the side, from that story. It was too detailed for some demon to just pluck it out of his head. But it still didn’t explain of how they could be possessing a body that would be bones by now deep in the ground. “It’s me, Y/N. I swear.” You let out a sigh from what he was saying, you believed him. But you wanted to hear more, the truth. It seemed he could almost read your mind. You watched as his lips stretched into a smile, he walked forward as his arm reached out to touch your cheek. His hands felt warm and rough against your skin. But you felt safe. “I did it for you, Y/N. I made a deal to bring you back to life and out of Hell. I couldn’t bare the thought of you being tortured by that monster and turned into this.” You looked up to see that his eyes were a pitch black. You gasped in surprise as you stumbled backwards. He quickly changed his eye color back to normal from your reaction he wasn’t expecting. “Oh, sweetie. Let me explain!”

“No!” You hissed at him. “You’re a monster!”

“How do you think I brought you back without a scratch on your body? He forced me to become this again so you could be free!” He explained. You could feel his hands drop to your arms, you were pinned in place. You furrowed your brow as he let out a sigh. “I’m real, Y/N. And I’m sorry this isn’t exactly how you wanted it. But it’s the best that I could do. I promise you—I promise—I’m not like that. I will never hurt you.” Your father let go of you when he could see your eyes were welling up with tears. He suddenly was overwhelmed with guilt from what he did. Andrew knew this was going to take time. “Everything that your mother did, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her. And I’m sorry I turned this way. But you’re my daughter. And I’d do anything to protect you so you won’t become into a monster like me.”

When you blinked, he was gone from your sight.

It took a second before the reality of the situation to come crashing on you. For a moment this seemed like some far fetched idea. He wasn’t real. And sure as hell didn’t get turned into a demon, again, to save you from Hell. Your lips stretched into the faintest smirk from the idea, but then again, the whispers from demons, what Yellow Eyes had said, your smile dropped.You found yourself walking back into the living room to collect your thoughts, there was too many of them to process. You sat down on the edge and grabbed the throw pillow to press it against your chest, your fingernails dug into the fabric when you heard a familiar voice speak.

“I hope you’ve gotten the explanation you wanted, Y/N. I’m afraid that’s all I can offer you.” Your eyes trailed up from the ground to see that Castiel was standing in front of you. Dean gets saved by an angel, you get dragged out because of a demon. “Considering the nature of these circumstances, I need you to know that it’d be best if you stayed away from Dean.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Excuse me?”

“Like I said, my kind have for use for a creature like you. We believe you would only pose as a distraction for him. Or worse. And I can’t have that happen. This matter is far too important.” Castiel explained. You scoffed at his response. You opened your mouth to ask if you didn’t comply, he answered for you before you could even get the question out. “I’m warning you, Y/N. All though I do find you curious, the others don’t think of you as so. Listen to my command or face fatal consequences.”

You could hear the sound of fluttering wings, and just like that, he was gone. Your fingernails dug deeper into the pillow from what you’d heard. Angels were real and your father was a demon. You could feel small pants of laughter escaping your throat when the reality began settling into your mind. But as you leaned against the couch and curled yourself into a ball, the laughter slowly turned into soft sobs that echoed through the quiet house.


	2. Are You there God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester.

You didn’t really want to be here; sitting in your car that had been collecting dust over the years while it was tucked in your driveway when you were hunting with the brothers. Instead you took it out for a long drive this morning after listening to the twenty voicemails Dean left you for the past two and half days. All though you were supposed to be locked inside your house right now, wrapping your mind around what you saw. A father back from the dead with demon eyes and an angel threatening to you to stay away from the Winchesters, you could feel your beginning to pound from the stress you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. But if you didn’t show your face to the boys at least once, they’d never know you were alive and well, and they might break down your door like Dean had said in his last message before you left this morning.

You let out a sigh and leaned back in your seat, you didn’t want to do this. They were going to beg and probably force you to stay with empty threats about being on your own again. You couldn’t tell them, not right away, well, not until you knew a few things were true. You glanced at Bobby’s house and let out a sigh. You yanked the car keys out of the ignition tossed them into your pocket for safekeeping. Ten minutes and you would be out of there. You just needed to gather your belongings and you would be off. Still, this was going to be like pulling teeth with them. You roughly opened up the driver’s side door and stepped out of the car, your eyes wandering over to the Impala parked not too far from where Bobby’s car was. Here goes nothing.

Walking across the yard, you sucked in a deep breath as you quietly headed up the porch steps until you were standing across from the front door. You knocked a few times and took the liberty of letting yourself inside after you twisted the door handle, a bit surprised to see that it wasn’t locked for random strangers to barge their way in. Kind of like what you were doing right now. “Guys,” You called out as a warning as you peeked your head inside to the hall, you stepped inside and closed the door behind you. “It’s me.”

“Look, all I know is that I was not groped by an angel.”

You furrowed your brow from what you hear, you recognize Dean’s voice echoing through the first floor of the house as you make your way inside. You head in deeper to see Bobby was sitting at his desk in the middle of the room, deep in research it seemed he wasn’t too surprised to see you wandering through. He glances up from the dusty books he was skimming through and gives you a nod of acknowledgement before going back to reading. You walk further into the room and glance over to see the boys are in the kitchen, Sam is sitting at the other desk with even more books spread around, but he’s not reading them. Dean is standing and pacing around the floor, but when he sees that you’re standing there with a faint smile, his face drops to a glare.

“What the hell happened to you?” Dean questions you. "I’ve been calling nonstop.”

“Uh, I don’t remember. I’ve been pretty out of it.” You give a little white lie, hoping it would be enough to keep them quiet. You walk into the kitchen with your attention wandering over to the desk, your eyes drop to the books of lore as you begin to flip through the pages, becoming curious to see what they were about. You can feel the lingering gaze slowly turning to you, wondering what really did happen with your own encounter, but before they can ask, you give them a question to divert the attention away from you. “What are you two talking about?”

“Dean doesn’t want to admit what he saw was real.” Sam said. The youngest brother had faith in the higher beliefs for a while now, admitting it during a case with a ghost who thought he was an angel, luring in people of the lowest parts of lifestyles to kill people who have committed sins. While he had been proven wrong back then, you all had a second chance at seeing if they were the real thing. You didn’t know what to believe right now. “Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?”

“Maybe he’s some kind of demon.” Dean argued with his brother. “Demons lie.”

You looked up from the books when you heard Dean’s logic, your face dropped in disbelief. Maybe you were starting to think that this could have been the real deal. If demons had brought you back from the dead, and went through all the trouble of making sure you didn’t die from being buried alive, they wouldn’t threaten to kill you just moments later. And there were a few other points that made no sense from what you saw last night. “Right. A demon that’s immune to rock salt, devil’s traps and Ruby’s knife? Dean, you saw me. I stabbed him in the heart and he didn’t even flinch.”

“Not to mention Lilith is scared of the thing!” Sam jumped into the conversation again.

Dean grumbled out something underneath his breath as he listened to and his brother make several good reasons about possibly believing this could have been the real deal. He leaned himself against the stove and leaned over to the open pizza box to see if it was good, but when he heard Sam’s point, he rolled his eyes and threw the piece back into the container. “Don’t you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one,” Dean took his chance at trying to prove to the both of you that that was what it was, a demon. “At some point, ever?”

“Yeah.You just did, Dean.” Sam said, his lips stretching into a smile. “Y/N’s a witness, too.”

You saw Dean glance over at you to see if you wanted to get yourself further into this conversation that you knew wasn’t going to end pretty. You threw your hands up in defeat knowing you weren’t the type of person to disclose what you thought was true or not. Everyone had an opinion, sometimes it was best to keep it to yourself. “I’m trying to come up with a theory here. Okay?” Dean said, you crossed your arms over your chest when he glanced over at you for help. “Work with me. Y/N, come on. I’m drowning here.”

Sam sighed from the argument that continued on, “Dean, we have a theory.”

“Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please.” He said, you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, look. I’ve only been here for five minutes and this conversation is going in circles.” You said with a bit of frustration in your tone. “I’m not saying he’s the real deal. And I’m not siding with anyone right now. I’m just saying that I think from what we saw we—”

“Okay, okay. That’s the point I’ve been trying to make with him, Y/N.” Dean cut you off, he walked over to you and his brother. You let out a sigh and leaned yourself against the desk as he continued on with the argument you were quickly growing tired of. “We don’t know for sure what happened back there. So I’m not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking angel of the Lord because it says so!”

You aggressively rolled your eyes from the conversation, you were wrapping yourself deeper into this, more than you wanted. So much for just sneaking in here and grabbing your stuff. You opened your mouth to try and divert this conversation into you leaving, but another voice from across the room cut you off before you could even begin. “You three chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?”

You gave Dean look as you headed out first to see what Bobby had found, the brothers trailed behind. Bobby flipped around an ancient looking book to show you three. You leaned down to see if you could read any of it, but the words seemed either too faded, or it was in another language you didn’t understand yet. Your eyes drifted over to the next page, where you saw a painting of a person burning in flames, what you were presuming was Hell, but a biblical form of an angel grabbing ahold of the damned soul from Hell by their arm. Dean subconsciously reached out and rubbed the handprint on his shoulder from what he saw.

“I got sticks of lore—biblical, pre-biblical.So of it’s in damn cuneiform.” Bobby explained. “It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit.”

“What else?”

“What else, what?”

Dean looked at the older man, “What else could it do?”

“Airlift your ass out of the hot box?” Bobby shook his head. “As far as I can tell, nothing.”

Dean seemed disappointed to hear the news, yet his little brother couldn’t help but find the silver lining in this situation and rub it in. “Dean, this is good news.” Sam said with a positive tone. You raised your brow as the other brother glanced over at him, wondering how. His explanation made your teeth sink into the flesh of your tongue. You should tell them, but you can’t bare the thought of how they would react. “Because for once, this isn’t just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?”

“Okay. Say it’s true. Say there are angels.” Dean said, pretending to agree for a moment. “Then what? There’s a God?”

“At this point,” Bobby said. “Vegas money’s on yeah.”

Dean’s lips stretched into a faint smile of disbelief, “I don’t know, guys.”

“Okay, look. I know you’re not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more about proof.” You said, finding yourself becoming more invested in this. “I mean, come on. You have to at least believe in a balance. Yin and yang. Good and evil. We have demons, why not angels? Maybe there’s proof out there that can help clear up a few other things.”

“Proof that there’s a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally?” Dean questioned you all, you shrugged your shoulders. He shook his head and threw his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry, but I’m not buying it.”

“Why not?” Sam asked his brother.

“Because why me?” Dean brang up a valid question. You were starting to remember what Castiel had said to the man, about thinking that he didn’t deserve to be saved. And it seemed he was pretty clear about his self doubt about the entire situation.“If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me? I mean, I’ve saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I’m just a regular guy.”

“Apparently, you’re a regular guy that’s important to the man upstairs.” Sam said.

You glanced over at Dean, wondering what he had thought about that. The man could see that everyone was staring at him now. “Well, that creeps me out.” Dean was honest, you softly chuckled from his reaction. “I mean, I don’t like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less…by God.”

“Okay, well, too bad, Dean. Because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat.” You said with a small wink. Dean seemed to realize that what Castiel had said was true, and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to come around at the idea. He cleared his throat and adjusted his footing around. You glanced over at the clock to see it was the afternoon. You could stay for a few hours, he’d never know, and if he did, there was no harm in lending a helping hand. “All right. Now that’s settled. Time to get to business. What do you know about angels?”

You and the boys glanced over at each other for a moment, all before you were looking over at Bobby, wondering if he had any answers. The man reached over across the desk and grabbed a heavy stack of books, he slammed them right on the open book he was just using. Your face dropped when you realized what an enormous task you were about to deal with. “Start reading.”

Your face scrunched up as you grabbed a few heavy books when Dean grabbed the smallest one off the top to get started. “You’re gonna get me some pie.” Dean instructed to his brother, he pointed a finger at the man. You could feel his other hand reach up and drape itself on your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body. “Nancy Drew and I’ve got reading to do.”

It was clear enough you weren’t getting out of this one so easy. You and him walked into the kitchen as the rest of the men drifted off to another part of the house, Sam headed out for the front door as Bobby occupied himself with making a phone, probably to another hunter for help, leaving you and Dean alone for a moment. You wandered over to the desk to drop off the books and sit yourself down for the endless amount of research. As you heard footsteps coming from behind, you turned around and pressed your backside against the wood, when you saw Dean’s face, you could tell right off the bat his mind wasn’t exactly on research. He reached out a finger, and before you knew it, he slipped it inside the belt loop of your jeans, he shook his head as you were lightly drawn over to him. You nervously swallowed. It wasn’t like you had a problem being this close to him, ever since you had him made it out Hell, everything had been on strange terms. It was the conversation about what you saw that was making you feel dread.

“Two days and not even a single word out of you. Thanks for scaring the holy hell out of me, Y/N. I thought you were dead.” Dean whispered in a quiet tone. He was making sure his voice didn’t echo through the house, trying to keep this conversation between the both of you. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling guilty for putting the man through the scare, but as you tried getting out of his grip, he wasn’t going to let you off the hook. He shook his head as he began walking backwards, trapping you and him into the desk. You rolled your eyes and look at him, annoyed from what he’d done. His expression softened. “You know you can tell me anything. What happened when you…vanished?”

You were a bit hesitant to explain, knowing well enough the threat kept repeating itself inside your mind like a broken record. You thought it wouldn’t be safe if you told him everything. The truth didn’t seem all that solid, after all, it could have been a trick. But you needed to tell Dean something to keep him occupied before you could think of something better.

“I think I saw my dad. He, uh, seemed really happy to see me.” You were honest about that part, you looked up to see the ends of Dean’s lips were stretching into a faint smile from the details. “But it was only for a split second. I still think this Castiel character is right about him making a deal. It’s the only logical sense that I can wrap my mind around. I honestly believe the good guys want you back, Dean. And…of course, I’m saved by demons. Again, proves how nothing good can go right my way.”

“I don’t care who pulled you out of Hell. You’re back and that’s all I care about.” Dean said. “I’m just happy those sons of bitches did something right.”

You began to feel your lips stretch into the faintest smile from what Dean said, but you could feel them growing wider when Dean lowered himself to your level. You could feel his free hand wrap around your chin as he tilted it upward, making for what he was about to do next a bit easier. Your eyelids fluttered shut when he pressed his lips against yours, all though it was soft and quick, it made your toes inside your shoes curl up in delight. “What the hell is going on, Dean? I mean, not that I’m enjoying this, but,” You couldn’t help yourself but ask. “What are we doing?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I was kissing this really pretty girl I’ve had the biggest crush on for the longest time.” Dean admitted with such a casual tone. You could feel your face drop from what’d he said. He dropped his hands to his side for a moment, but you suddenly could feel them wrap around your waist, and without much effort, he placed you on the edge of the desk. You could feel yourself swallowing from what he said next. “And I was hoping, maybe when all of this was done, I could tell her about this little thing she’d been bugging me about for years. About this mystery girl…” His fingers rest against your denim clad knees, you can feel him squeeze them lightly as your eyes dart up to him. “Is sitting right in front of me.”

“You…jerk!” You hissed at him with a playful tone, suddenly realizing what he had mentioned. You reached up to smack him on his chest, but he was quicker than you, he grabbed a hold of your wrist, you let out the faintest laugh before it turned itself into a quiet sigh. “You know this is the part where I ask why, you know. Why little old me? I’m not exactly innocent, you know.”

“Oh, you’re plenty innocent, sweetheart.” Dean dropped his tone to a whisper as you feel his hand snake up to your thighs. You roll your eyes, knowing you’d set yourself up for that. “But I was thinking I could tell you over dinner. You and me tonight. What’d you say? No Sam or Bobby. No talk about angels or demons. Just you, me and some take out in Baby.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Winchester?”

“Maybe. What do you say, Y/N?”

You can feel your mind screaming the threats Castiel had told you. The tip of your tongue is the excuse you’d been wanting to use since to get out of here. But as you feel Dean’s fingers make light patterns in your jeans, you can’t help but melt in his embrace. You’ve waited too long for this. It wouldn’t hurt to just spend one night with Dean, away from the threats and new monsters, away from the past traumatic experiences. You nod your head for an answer he’d been waiting to hear. This was a new chapter of your life, you weren’t going to ruin a chance with something you’d been dying to secretly experience. The both of you share the same smile as you lean forward to steal another kiss before someone could disrupt the moment. As you closed your eyes and felt his breath tickle your lips, a familiar voice broke you out of reality.

“Am I disrupting something?” You could hear Dean growl out in annoyance from the familiar voice, it was his baby brother. He looked over his shoulder to see Sam was standing there with the absolute biggest grin across his face, chuckles were coming out left and right from what he saw. You were more taken back from how amusing he thought this was than him seeing his brother and best friend in such a compromising position. “Oh, I knew it. I knew it was a matter of time.”

“Shut up, Sam!” Dean grumbled out. He reached a hand inside his back pocket and roughly threw the keys to the Impala at his brother, who caught them without effort. “Get your ass out of here. And don’t forget the pie!”

\+ + +

Research didn’t seem to last very long after Sam headed off to the store for a food run. Bobby tried contacting another hunter, Olivia Lowery over the past few days, thinking she could help with this angel business after meeting the infamous Castiel. But he was beginning to grow worried when she wasn’t getting back to him. You heard the Impala pull up from behind as you helped Dean get the rest of the belongings into the trunk as Bobby off to fill in Sam about the change of plans. Dean closed the trunk as you grabbed a few books of lore from the roof of the car. Even though the car should only take a few hours, it wouldn’t hurt at least get started on reading.

You walked to the Impala and opened up the backseat door, you threw the books inside and sat down. The car shifted around when Sam slid over after finding his brother heading for the driver’s side to take his rightful place. You reached for one of the books as Dean grabbed the plastic bag to see if his brother had gotten the task done right. You leaned backwards in your seat and got yourself comfortable, you barely had a moment to read the first sentence before your eyes were lingering up from what you heard next.

“Dude?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s the pie?”

You were shifting forward and leaning over the front seat to peek inside the plastic bag was filled with all sorts of junk food, Sam grabbed the food you’d asked for, but not his brother’s special request. “Oh, no. The humanity.” You mumbled in a sarcastic tone. You ignored Dean’s obvious glare as you sneaked a hand inside to grab a bag of chips to keep yourself occupied. When you opened up the bag, you popped a chip into your mouth, Dean frowned in annoyance as he threw the bag to the seat. He shifted around the gears and pressed his foot on the gas, sending the Impala forward as Bobby went off.

\+ + +

You all arrived to Olivia’s house in just under a few hours; while you expected to be graced with a weapon to keep yourself protected as you headed inside to be backup, as usual, Dean thought it would have been best if you stayed behind on this one. You weren’t sure why he suddenly changed his attitude about being apart of this, but he didn’t give you much of a chance before him and the rest of the men were off to knock on her door. Maybe it was because she’d met the boys before and it’d might be a less awkward situation with familiar faces barging down her down. You leaned against the Impala and waited a moment before things could get wrapped up nice and easy.

There could have been at least a dozen reasons off the top of your head that could explain what was going on without jumping to worse case scenario. As you glanced back to the front door, you could feel your face drop when you saw Bobby come bolting out just seconds after arriving. The look on his face was clear enough that things didn’t turn out okay. You pushed yourself off the car and walked forward, heading up the steps, you slowly walked inside the house to see what was going on. As you glanced around to see the boys were standing there in shock, your eyes drifted to Oliva, only she wasn’t exactly in one piece. Your mouth parted open slightly at the grizzly sight; the hunter was lying on the floor, her ribcage looked to have been ripped open with blood all over the place, even some of her internal organs were starting to spill out slightly.

“Salt line.” Sam noticed, your eyes drifted to the floor.

Your guess was a demon had a bit of fun from the way her body looked, something tore her to pieces. You cautiously walked forward as the brothers headed over to see what they could learn about the sight. As you looked around to see if there was any sulfur, you sniffed the air, wondering if there was the familiar rotten smell, yet the only thing you could pick up was a ripening corpse from laying here for so long. Dean walked over to the closet where he saw Oliva’s stash of weapons she kept hidden away, his attention was drawn to the EMF reader that was lying around.

“Olivia was rocking the EMF meter.” Dean said, he noticed how the needle faintly moved back and forth.

“Spirit activity?” You wondered.

“Yeah–on steroids. I never seen a ghost to do this to a person.” Dean said, taking notice of how savage she was ripped apart. There was no way some spirit could have done this. As he examined her body, his eyes darted up when he saw the oldest man come back into the house, you and Sam quickly looked over. “Bobby, you all right?”

The man wandered over to the both of you, his hand was holding out an open cell phone. It wasn’t hard to tell the shock was settling in from how he stared off in the distance for a moment. “I called some hunters nearby…”

“Good.” Dean said, not giving the man a chance to finish. “We can use their help.”

“…Except they ain’t answering their phones either.”

You and the brothers looked at each other with an uneasy feeling. “Something’s up, huh?”

“You think?”

\+ + +

You and the boys split up after thinking there was something strange going on here. Bobby tried contacting a few other hunters, but still, nobody was picking up their phone. You tried contacting a hunter named Jed at least three times, of course, he wasn’t picking up his phone. You and the boys decided to take a swing over to his house as Bobby took a few other hunters, hoping they were all right. But things weren’t looking good when Sam unlocked the hunter’s dead bolt and made your way inside his house. When you flipped on his lights, you saw a familiar struggle like you had seen back at Olivia’s place, but this was worse. Furniture was knocked over with blood splatter covering some of it, the rest soaked in the carpet or mixed itself in with the sloppy salt line he’d tried to make. You could see gunshot casing on the floor leading to Jed’s dead body, and just like the last hunter, his chest was ripped open.

You and the brothers knew there was nothing else you could do, you headed out first to the car with night already surrounding the place. You were on the phone with Bobby after you called him to explain the unfortunate details. You looked over your shoulder with your eyes glancing back to the house. “We’re at Jed’s. It’s not pretty. He looks even worse than Olivia.” You said, walking down the porch steps before stopping for a moment. “What about you?”

“I checked on Carl Bates and R.C. Adams. They’ve redecorated,” Bobby said, you could feel a sigh from the unfortunate news you’d heard next. “In red.”

You shook your head when you saw the brothers were staring at you for an update of what was happening. Their faces dropped at the thought of even more hunters dropping dead. "What the hell is going on here, Bobby?” You asked the man. You walked to the Impala as a hand reached out to open up the backseat door. “Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to kill off-duty hunters?”

“I don’t know,” Bobby admitted. “But until we find out, you and the boys better get your asses back to my place.”

“We’re on our way.”

There was no way you were going to be running off at a time like this, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You told the boys the change of plans as you shoved your phone into your pocket. You sat back in your seat and closed your eyes, you let out a quiet breath. You hoped you were doing the right thing by staying.

Part Two:

There was something peaceful about having the open road at your fingertips with the brothers being back at your side. All though today’s events hadn’t been very pleasant, running around town to see only hunters that were slaughtered in their own homes, the stress began showing in the boy’s attitude when both of them claimed to be too exhausted to drive back to Bobby’s place. That’s where you stepped in. You sat behind the wheel of the Impala, a rare treat to you, but it was better than taking a small nap on the side of the road and there were no motels for miles. Dean somehow agreed with your suggestion without giving you a fight. Sam was lying in the backseat as the other brother was passed out in the passenger side, his head sticking out the window. You could feel a small smile spreading across your lips from the sight as you turned your attention back to the road.

A neon sign glowing in the distance caught your attention, you noticed it was a gas station. You thought it wouldn’t hurt to fill up the tank after all the running around you did today. You made a left handed turn off the road and pulled into the station, not surprised to see it was empty for four in the morning. You pulled up to a pump and turned off the car, you quietly shut the driver’s side door and walked forward. It took a few minutes to fill up the tank and pay for it. After you finished, you glanced over to the inside to see the clerk restocking shelves, your eyes dropped the restroom sign. Suddenly you couldn’t help but give into the urge. You walked over and peeked inside the car to see the brothers were still passed out It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick stop before getting back on the road, you had a few more hours until you would get back on the road.

You walked inside the small store and after asking for quick directions, you were heading inside the rather rasty bathroom. You were done in under a minute, afraid if you spent too much time in a public bathroom that was covered more in rust and graffiti than you’d found to your liking. You zipped up your pants and headed for the sink and loaded your hands up with soap. You began washing underneath the hottest temperature you could get the faucet to turn. But you could feel a shiver run through your body from the sudden shift in temperature that was decreasing. You let out a breath, only to see that it came out as a small foggy pants you could see. Your eyes slowly trailed up to the bathroom mirror when you heard a quiet little crackling echo through the quiet air.

You watched as a thin sheet of ice began to cover itself over the glass, blocking out your reflection. You nervously swallowed from what was happening—sudden shifts in temperature, foggy breath, the frosty glass was the last clue to know you were in contact with a ghost. You had a feeling you’d gotten yourself cornered from the spirit who had killed the four other hunters. Without wasting another second, you pulled the sleeve of your jacket over your hand, you wiped away the frost to see the body standing behind you. You quickly turned around and pressed your hands against the sink when you saw them, Nancy Fitzgerald and Victor Henricksen, two of the half dozen people that were slaughtered at the hands of Lilith. You nervously swallowed when you saw them staring at your for a long second. Nancy’s lips stretched into a faint smile.

“Hi, Y/N.” Henriksen spoke up, your eyes trailed over to him. “It’s been a while.”

Henricksen was an FBI agent that tracked you and the brothers down for months until Bela Talbot tipped him off when you were hunting her down for the colt. You managed to throw the agent off once before when the brothers got locked up for another case, you lead him and his partner to the wrong cemetery, giving you the chance to sneak off before being reunited again a year later. Your eyes trailed over to Nancy, the sweet receptionist you’d known only remembered for an innocent soul who was dragged into a terrible mess. She was a kind hearted Catholic woman who admitted to being a virgin, coincidentally, both of you found the same fate, just weeks later for you. She stood there with her fingers wrapped around her cross, all though she wasn’t mad, you could see from her expression that she seemed almost happy. But looks could be deceiving.

Your mouth parted open slightly, there were two people you’d thought were dead, now standing in the flesh of some gas station bathroom. You knew something wasn’t right here. “Are you,” You got yourself speaking again, but the words only came out jumbled. “Did you two…”

“We didn’t survive,” Nancy spoke up, making your gaze linger over to her. She dropped her hand away from her necklace and to her side. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t help but say, guilt beginning to gnaw at you.

Henricksen shrugged his shoulders, “We know you are.”

“Look, if we’d know Lilith was coming—”

"You wouldn’t have left half a dozen innocent people in that police station to die in your place. I know. You could have saved us, Y/N. But you didn’t.” Nancy said. You furrowed your brow when you saw her innocent face slowly hardened into a icy glare that made you realize this wasn’t the woman you’d remembered. Her eyes glazed over with anger as she continued talking. “You did this to us. It was your fault. She was after you, and we paid the price. You left us there to die!”

This wasn’t one spirit that was hunting down all hunters, it must have been past lives they couldn’t save. But the thought was cut from your mind when you felt Henricksen reach out and roughly grab ahold of your jacket and yank you forward before shoving you to the opposite side of the wall. You could feel the wind being knocked out your lungs from how your backside was roughly thrown against the tiled wall. But you barely had a second to breathe again when the man again reached out a hand and grabbed a hold of your shirt. You reacted by trying your hardest to fight back, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, making the both of you pinned into place for a moment. But you could feel yourself being lunged forward when Nancy took part of the fight.

You went stumbling forward and crashing into the bathroom mirror, breaking the entire structure by accident. Somehow you managed to block away the shards of broken glass as they scattered themselves across the floor. But you knew the fight wasn’t over when someone grabbed a hold you from behind when you dropped to your knees from the impact. You closed your eyes when your head went flying to the sink, Henricksen bashed your skull a few times until he threw you to the floor where you laid for a moment, trying your hardest to get the figures standing in front of you to stop spinning around the room. You suddenly winced in fear when you heard the sound of a gunshot echoing through the bathroom. After a second, you slowly opened your eyes to see your vision was blurry for a second, but as you began to make out the bodies, you saw the brothers crouched in front of you with loaded shotguns. Nancy and Hericken were nowhere to be found.

\+ + +

You winced from the pain after you accidentally brushed your fingers against the cut just above your eyebrow. You and the brothers were back on the road again with Dean behind the wheel and you in the backseat, Sam was sitting in the passenger side, almost everything seemed normal. Except for the fact you’d seen two people you’d gotten killed, and things weren’t exactly looking up when Dean couldn’t help ahold of the one man you were racing to meet again. Dean grumbled a few words underneath his breath as he pressed Bobby’s number in his phone again, all while keeping the car steady on the road.

“Damn it, Bobby! Pick up!” Dean hissed at the phone when nobody picked up on the other line. He tried again after he heard the familiar voicemail for the third, As the continuous ringing kept his attention, he peeked into the rearview to see how you were handling your concussion. “How you feeling, Y/N? Huh? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“None.” You answered him with a tired tone. “I’ll be fine, guys.”

“I don’t get it. Why did Nancy and Henricksen pop up all of a sudden?” Sam asked, seeming curious to find out what was going on. “Did you know what they wanted, Y/N?”

“Revenge because we got them killed.” You said. Sam looked over his shoulder, when you glanced up from your lap, you saw him giving you that empathic stare, like he was trying to stop you from going to the familiar downward spiral of guilt. You rolled your eyes when you heard Dean speak your name in a warning tone. “Well, we did, guys.”

“All right. Stop right there, Y/N.” Dean spoke up, cutting off your chances before you could start throwing yourself a pity party. He shut his phone and turned around in his seat for the slightest second to look at you. “Whatever the hell is going on, it’s happening to us now, okay? I can’t get ahold of Bobby, so if you’re not thinking answers with that big brain of yours, don’t think at all.”

You let out a quiet breath from what Dean had said to you, all though it was quite out of character from the way he’d been treating you over the past few days, he was right. There was something bringing spirits back from the dead and targeting hunters, you’d seen the dead bodies. And now Bobby wasn’t answering any of Dean’s phone calls. Your thoughts were now being replaced with the disturbing images of seeing the older man’s body lying on the ground, his chest cavity torn to pieces. You swallowed, hoping you and the brothers wouldn’t be too late before these disturbing thoughts could become a reality.

\+ + +

All of you arrived in the morning, and without a second to spare, you followed in after the brothers when the door swung open. With a free hand, you quietly stepped inside the home and closed the door behind you. As your eyes trailed across the room and headed deeper into the house, you were disappointed to see no sign of the man around. You heard Dean quietly call out Bobby’s name as all of you took a separate room to see where he could have gone. You quietly walked around, not seeing anything that could lead to any answers of where he could have ended up. But your attention was drawn to the staircase when you heard the faint sound of someone snapping their fingers. You walked over to see that Dean found something, your eyes dropped to the iron rod sitting on the floor. You bent down, taking your free hand to bend down and grab the iron rod before your gaze went to the top of the staircase. You furrowed your brow, wondering if he was up there.

“Y/N and I’ll go. You check outside.” Dean instructed to his brother, he gestured to the staircase. You weren’t sure about the plan, the junkyard Bobby owned was pretty large, especially for one person. But Sam seemed up for the task as he headed for the back door.

You took the lead when Dean gestured a finger to the stairs, you quietly made your way up, memorizing which stair was the noisiest as you trailed up without a sound, Dean followed in suit. You walked down the hall, your entire concentration was focused for any noise or sound to tell you where Bobby could be. You took the first room on your left and stepped inside, you a sweep around but only to see there was nothing around. As you stepped back out with Dean, you opened your mouth to ask him where he wanted to continue with, but your heads turned to down the hall, where you saw the door slowly open by itself, the squeaky door hinges echoed through the quiet atmosphere. Without taking another chance, you and him pointed up your weapons and began walking forward.

“Come out, come out, whoever you are.”

Dean called out, trying to grab the spirit’s attention as he took the lead, you trailed behind for backup. But you both barely made a foot across the hallway before you were stopping, suddenly feeling a shift in the temperature. You glanced down to see your breaths were turning into foggy breaths. And a second later, you heard a female voice speak up. 

“Dean Winchester. Still so bossy.” You turned around to see a young woman standing at the end of the hall, you noticed how dirty and disheveled she looked. But you squinted your eyes slightly, wondering why she seemed so familiar to you, and it seemed she’d noticed. “You don’t recognize me, Y/N? This is what I looked like before that demon cut off my hair and dressed me like a slut.”

What demon did you know that kept a body the longest? You could feel your face drop. The one that tracked you and the boys down, trying every way to kill you, kidnapped you and lured John to his doomed fate after she demanded the colt. But you and the brothers trapped her after she hunted down the real thing when the man gave her a fake. She was lead to Bobby’s where she was trapped, blinded by her own wrath. You all tried your hardest to save her from the demon, but she died hours later after complications. The poor woman’s body had dealt with the punches and broken bones that came with being possessed by an active demon who liked to cause fights. She’d been quiet for years, but she was again, back from the dead.

Your mouth parted open from surprise, “Meg?”

“Hi.” She greeted you two with a warm smile, but you weren’t fooled by her actions. You quickly pointed your gun at her, threatening to pull the trigger. Meg quickly put her hands into a defensive position, she tested your limits by taking a few steps forward. “It’s okay. I’m not a demon.”

“You’re the girl the demon possessed.” Dean said.

“Meg Masters. Nice to finally talk to you two when I’m not, you know, choking on my own blood.” She said. You noticed she shared the same sarcastic attitude the demon had. Still, you weren’t putting your guard down from what happened last time. She began walking closer. “It’s okay, Y/N. Seriously, I‘m just a college girl. Sorry—Was. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I’m a prisoner…in here.” Meg tapped her index finger against her head. “Now, I was awake. I had to watch while she murdered people.”

Sam had been possessed by the same demon Meg was, all though it’d only been for a few weeks. You even got taken over by Lilith for a few hours. Sam and you had done things that weren’t like you, he murdered an innocent hunter while you lead hellhounds to rip apart his brother. But the both of you had faced things of the unusual circumstances. The woman in front of you was a normal, innocent person. She didn’t know what kind of supernatural monsters lurked out there until it happened to her. The woman never got a chance to tell anyone what it was like to be possessed for months. You remembered how she tried speaking while she was lying on the floor, tied to a chair and choking on her own blood. She had to feel every broken bone in her body, deal with every horrendous memory because of that demon. Meg didn’t have time to explain the ordeal of being possessed because just a short time later, she passed. But now this was her chance. And she wasn’t holding back any of the guilt wrenching details to the both of you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, you were nothing but honest with that statement.

“Oh, yeah?” She questioned you with a venomous tone. “So sorry you had be thrown off a building.“

"Well, we thought—”

“No, you didn’t think!” Meg yelled, cutting off Dean as he tried explaining himself. You’d thought she was somehow tied up in this mess, just a creepy devil worshiper who’d managed to get a couple vicious demons to do what she wanted. Nobody suspected she was possessed. Meg shook her head, and when she began speaking again, you could hear her voice break. “I kept waiting, praying! I was trapped in there screaming at you two! ‘Just help me, please!’ You’re supposed to help people, Dean. Why didn’t you help me?”

Dean stared at the woman with guilt, “I’m sorry.”

"Stop saying you’re sorry!” Meg screamed at the top of her lungs. 

Without a second to spare, she took the man’s shock from her rising tone to her advantage. She channeled every ounce of anger and threw a punch, knocking him down to the ground as his shotgun fell to the floor. You tried your hardest to focus and aim, taken back from the sudden chances in events. Meg was faster than you. She somehow ripped the gun out of your hands and roughly swung it at your head, seeming to have to have taken notice of your previous wounds to your advantage. You stumbled to the floor, the blow crippling to to the ground as you curled up, the pounding inside your skull returned with vengeance. “It was always about you. Saving little Y/N. Making sure Y/N was okay!“ You winced in pain when you felt her foot collide with your stomach, each time she said your name, another kick went into your bruised abdomen. "You’re the reason why I’m dead!”

“Meg!” Dean’s strained voice called out the woman’s attention. She looked over her shoulder to see the man was trying his hardest to get her attention. She walked forward as she watched him struggle through the pain. “We didn’t know!”

She shook her head, and without a warning, she kicked him right in the head. Meg could see he was trying his hardest to work through the pain, keep her focus on him. She dropped down to a crouch so she was at level with Dean, she could see how his body shook, it was even painful to just barely sit up. “No. You just attacked. Did you ever think there was a girl in here? No. You just charged in, slashing and burning. You’d do just about anything to protect her, huh?” She asked him. Meg leaned forward, “You think you’re some kind of hero?”

“No,” Dean admitted. “I don’t.”

“You’re damn right.” Meg hissed at him. She grabbed a hold of him by his jacket and leaned even more forward, Dean’s eyes trailed down to her hand, noticing a strange marking burned on her skin. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be ridden for months by pure evil while your family has no idea what happened to you?”

“We did the best we could.”

“No you didn’t.”

Meg shoved his body across the floor before she pushed herself up to her feet, Dean laid there for a moment, the pain keeping him down. The woman turned herself on her heels, her gazed lingering over to you, who still laid on the floor. She began to walk over to you, ever so slowly. “It wasn’t just me, Dean. I had a sister. A little sister. She worshiped me. You know how little siblings are, right? How they’ll do anything for you. She was never the same after I disappeared. She just,” Meg let out a quiet sigh from what she said next. “She just got lost. And when my body was lying in the morgue, beat-up, broken…”

“Meg,” You tried speaking to her, “We said we’re sorry”

“Do you know what that did to her?” Meg questioned you. She was now standing over you, her face was stretched with an expression full of wrath and hatred. You could feel a groan of pain escape your throat when you felt her foot collide again with your stomach, sending you back a bit from the force. “She killed herself! Because of you, Y/N! Because of Sam! And because of you, Dean!” She kicked you again, stopping you from crawling away, you pressed your eyelids shut as you laid on your stomach. You weren’t sure what was worse–the guilt of realizing what you’d done, or the physical pain that was rushing through your body. "Because all you two were thinking about was your family, your revenge, and your demons! Fifty words of latin a little sooner, and I’d still be alive. My baby sister would still be alive. That blood is on your hands, Dean!”

“You’re right.” Dean said, trying to get the woman’s attention.

Meg turned her attention back over to the woman, she titled her head as she watched him squirm away. She decided to leave you alone for a moment, you laid on the ground and managed to catch your breath. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. Every inch of your body was aching, all you could do was watch as Meg trailed along, watching with amusement as Dean crawled his way across the hallway and into the room at the end of the hall. He turned around so he was now lying on his backside, as Meg walked forward, he quickly pulled out his pistol. The woman’s lips stretched into an amused smile as he pointed the barrel at her, but it didn’t stop her from walking forward and deeper into the room where he laid.

“Come on, Dean.” She said with a growing smirk. “Did your brain get french-fried in Hell? You can’t shoot me with bullets.”

“I’m not shooting at you.”

Without another word to the spirit, Dean positioned his gun higher in the air and pulled the trigger at his real target. Your head quickly shot up from the ground when you heard the sound of a gun going off, seconds later, a crashing noise. You looked to see that Meg was nowhere to be found, and the crashing noise was some old chandler. You sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to your feet, somehow you got there, all before stumbling backwards to a wall, the pain was throbbing everywhere. You couldn’t help yourself but take a moment to slowly lift up your shirt, you sucked on your teeth to cover up the hiss that threatened to come out. You would have been bruised for a while, but you would live.

\+ + +

Sam found Bobby out in the junkyard, both of them safe and sound. All of you were now reconnected and back in the library. You sat on the couch with an ice pack to your stomach to keep the swelling down, Dean sat next to you as he continued loading up the shotguns with more ammunition. “So, they’re all people we know?” Sam asked. He remained standing as you watched him slowly pace around the room, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Not just know.” You corrected him. “People we couldn’t save.”

“Hey, I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?” Dean asked. You and Sam glanced over at one another, wondering if either one of you could have remembered a small detail like that. The both of you ended up shaking your heads. “It was like a mark on her hand—almost a brand.”

“Wait.” You furrowed your brow from that detail. “I saw a mark, too, on Henriksen.”

“What did it look like?” Bobby asked.

Without even asking, Sam grabbed paper and a pencil for you to draw the brand that was fresh inside your mind. You quickly thanked him as you rested the paper on the armrest, you quickly drew out a rough sketch from memory. It wasn’t the best but you picked up the pad and showed it to Dean. “That’s it.”

“Let me take a look at it.” Bobby said. You gave the drawing over to Sam, where he handed it to Bobby. The man took a moment to look at it before he nodded his head at the familiarity. “I may have seen this before.”

Bobby walked over to the bookcase to grab a few things, Sam reached out a hand to grab the shotgun his brother had just reloaded. But it couldn’t have come any sooner when the sound of a radio static began to ring throughout the room, but nobody was turning it. Bobby knew what was going on, and he wasn’t going to waste another second before another spirit could pop up. “We got to move.” He said. Bobby grabbed a few books from the shelves and shoved them into Sam’s hands without a warning. “Follow me.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“Someplace safe, you idjit.”

You and the brothers gave each other a confused look of what was going on, but Bobby seemed to have noticed, he quickly snapped you all back into reality. Everyone followed him through the house where he lead you to the basement door, you gave him a confused look before he gestured an arm for to you follow him down. You all headed to the lower level as you looked around, while it seemed like any other basement you’ve been in, Bobby lead you all to an extra part of the house that probably wasn’t here when him and his wife first bought the property. He stopped in front of a large door that looked to have been made out of iron, but when he opened it to reveal a secret room, your eyebrows were raised in curiosity.

You stepped inside to this had been the ultimate safe haven for a hunter; the room was large, big enough to fit four people without feeling on top of one another. There was a small bed with two desks on each side of the room, one for research and another with all sorts of radios to keep in contact with the outside world. You glanced down on the floor to see there was even a devil’s trap on the floor. Not to mention a wall full of weapons to keep you all safe. This was like something straight out of an end of the world handbook. Your lips stretched into a faint smile when your fingers reached out to touch the walls, it was exactly what you’d thought it’d be.

“Bobby, is this—”

“Solid iron. Completely coated in salt.” Bobby said. “Hundred percent ghost-proof.”

“You built a panic room? Sam asked, a hint of surprise from seeing the craftsmanship.

The man shrugged, “I had a weekend off.”

“Bobby,” Dean called out the hunter’s name, causing everyone else to look at him. You raised a brow when you saw him standing there with an automatic weapon. But it seemed Dean couldn’t help but compliment the man for his dedication for doing the job, and sharing it with the three of you. “You’re awesome.”

Everyone couldn’t help themselves but let out a quiet laugh from what Dean had said. You looked around the room, taking in more detail of the room, everything about this place was fascinating, but a poster hanging across the room caught your attention. “Oh.” Bobby quickly looked over to see that you found his eye candy of a starlet from back in the day, you gave him a coy wink. “I see you’ve got everything here, huh?”

Bobby gave you a disapproving look from your comment, you quietly chuckled when he handed you a book. "Sit your ass down and start reading.”

Part Three:

Everything was running like a system; you and Bobby were preoccupied with searching through the books he brought down to find out what the symbol meant. The brothers kept themselves busy by loading up more ammunition for another possible fight ahead. You skimmed through the pages until you flipped to the very last one, you let out a quiet sigh, knowing there was nothing in there that could explain what was going on. You glanced over to see how the boys were doing. Dean had stopped working for a moment when he caught your lingering stare. He opened up his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but he quickly went back to work for a second or two before he started a conversation, breaking everyone away from what they were doing.

“See, this is why I can’t get behind God.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If he doesn’t exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That’s just how it is.” Dean started off his personal thoughts. You sat at the edge of the bed you’d been occupying, you wondered where he was going with this. “There’s no rhyme or reason—just random, horrible evil—I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what’s wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn’t he help?”

That always had been a question people who weren’t quite religious had thought about. In a world that some old dusty book had said was created by God, he sure didn’t mind it being filled with such hate and terrible events. But you knew millions of people still believed in him, showing signs only in little miracles. Yet you weren’t the one to jump into this religious debate, your own morals always were kept to yourself. You glanced over at Sam, wondering he wanted to speak up about his own personal beliefs. He remained quiet like you as his eyes lingered over to Bobby, curious to see what the oldest hunter had to say about this.

“I ain’t touching this one with a ten-foot-pole.” He said. Dean mumbled something as he threw the plastic bullet shell to the table. Bobby tapped his pencil against the book he’d been reading to give you all some good news. “Found it. The symbol you saw—the brand on the ghosts…mark of the witness.”

“Witness?” You repeated after the man. “Witness to what?”

“The unnatural. None of them died what you’d call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts—they were   
to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain’t their fault.” Bobby explained to you all. But you could feel a scoff coming out when you heard the last sentence. “Someone rose them on purpose.”

“Who?” Sam asked the man.

“Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans.” Bobby said. You pushed yourself off the bed to take a look at his work, Sam followed in suit as he leaned over your shoulder to take a look for himself. “It’s called the rising of the witnesses. It figures into an ancient prophecy.”

“Wait, wait.” Dean said. He got up from his chair and walked forward to the rest of you. It seemed all of this talk had his brain thinking of leads. “What book is that prophecy from?”

“Well, the widely distributed versions, just for tourists, you know. But long story short—revelations.” Bobby said. You raised your brow from what he said next. “This is a sign, kids.”

“A sign of what?” The brothers asked in accidental sync.

Bobby leaned back in his seat, you could see his facial expression shift downward from what he had to say. You crossed your arms over your chest, all though you’ve dealt with a lot of things with the brothers, faced monsters and even came across new ones in the past few days, what you heard wasn’t what you’d expected. You’d heard about rumors from religious nuts, read too many fictional books on the matter and seen countless movies on the topic that’s been brewing for decades. But you weren’t really expecting it to ever happen. “The apocalypse.”

“The apocalypse?” You asked the man. He nodded his head, you let out a nervous chuckle as you glanced over at the brothers from what you were hearing. “As in apocalypse apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, five-dollar-a-gallon gas apocalypse?“

“That’s the one.” Bobby said. “The rise of the witnesses is a mile marker.”

“Okay, so, what do we do now?” Sam asked.

“Road trip. I’m talking grand canyon, star trek experience.” Dean said. You saw from the corner of your eye as he began heading back to his seat, but you could feel a surprise squeak make its way out of your mouth when you felt his hand quickly squeeze your ass as he passed by. You gave him a disapproving glare, he gave you a wink. “Bunny ranch.”

“First things first.” Bobby said, getting you and Dean focused back on him. “How about we survive our friends out there?”

“Great.” Dean said. “Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgement Day?”

Bobby nodded his head, already coming up with a plan. He leaned forward in his seat, Bobby tapped the pencil against the book. “It’s a spell. To send the witnesses back to rest. Should work.”

“Should.” Sam muttered. He let out a nervous chuckle. “Great.”

“If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house.” Bobby said.

You looked over at the older man and gave him a small smile from what you were about to say. “Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?”

“So, you thought our luck was gonna start all of a sudden?” Bobby asked you with disbelief, you shrugged your shoulders. He shook his head and pushed himself up to his feet and began to gather up supplies. “Spell’s got to be cast over an open fire.”

“The fireplace in the library.” Sam said, you rolled your eyes at the complication.

“That’s just not as appealing as a ghost-proof panic room, you know?” You gave Dean a look from his comment as you heard Sam let out a sharp sigh from the new adventure that laid ahead for the four of you. Spirits, you’d dealt with them way too many times to count. But it was the ones that were lingering outside, they were like rabid dogs, as Bobby put it. They were the faces of people you couldn’t save on the job. And they wanted revenge. This lifestyle of hunting always gave you new surprises.

\+ + +

It didn’t take very long to gather everything you needed in order to conduct the spell. While it might have been a pleasant thought to keep yourself locked away in this panic room and let the boys continue on, they needed everyone on board to keep one another safe. There’d been more spirits lingering around than people standing in this room. You grabbed a loaded shotgun and kept it to your side, waiting for further instructions from Bobby as he headed for the door.

“Cover each other. And aim careful. Don’t run out of ammo until I’m done, or they’ll shred you.” Bobby explained the rules. You sucked in a quiet breath. “Ready?”

Bobby unlocked the door by pushing up the iron handle, Sam took the lead as you positioned yourself in the middle of the group, and when the entrance was opened, you cautiously examined the basement before following behind Sam after he took a sweep of the floor himself. You slowly walked to the staircase with Dean and Bobby trailing behind. Everything seemed to have been quiet enough as you all walked forward to your destination, no familiar faces were popping their way into say hello. You stopped for a moment to take an inspection of the other side of the room, but it was a strange voice that made everyone look towards the top of the staircase. Dean drew out his weapon when he saw an unfamiliar shadow sitting on the first step.

“Hey, Dean.You remember me?”

You squinted your eyes when you began making out the spirit’s features in the darkness. You noticed by the curly head of hair who it was, Ronald Resnick. A smile began creeping at the ends of your lips from the memories you’d had of him. He’d been involved in the bank robbery that had involved a shapeshifter. Of course he was the one who had ran into the place with a loaded rifle after he’d thought cybermen were the cause of this. Unfortunately he wasn’t the brightest robber, he got spotted by the police and was shot. But it seemed Dean remembered the man, too.

“Ronald, huh? With the laser eyes?” Dean asked with a smile as he pointed at his eyes. “I wish I could say it’s good to see you.”

“I am dead because of you.” Ronald hissed as he pushed himself to his feet. “You were supposed to help me!”

Before the malevolent Ronald could do any harm to Dean, he’d vanished into a puff of smoke after the unexpected sound of gunshot made everyone jump slightly in surprise. You and Dean looked over at Bobby, who was holding the smoking gun. “If you’re gonna shoot, shoot. Don’t talk.”

You and the brothers nodded your heads from the warning, these weren’t the friendly people you’d first met, someone was controlling them and turning to monster who only wanted to kill you. And if anyone of you wanted to survive tonight, it was shoot first, regret later. All of you managed to get back up to the first floor without seeing another familiar face. But it didn’t mean the fight was over just yet. Sam began making a line of salt around the desk when Bobby dropped the supplies to the desk. Dean headed for the fireplace and looked around for the box of matches that was around here somewhere. You raised yourself a bit higher to see they were at the ledge, just a few inches of where his hand kept patting around. You snatched them and handed them over so Dean could set the fire.

“Sam. Upstairs, linen closet—red hex box. It’ll be heavy.” Bobby ordered at the youngest man after he set the line. Sam nodded his head and raced upstairs, getting what was needed to complete the spell. You set your gun down for a moment to help move away things from the desk and throwing them down to the floor. You looked over your shoulder when you noticed Bobby stopped for a moment, you saw a pair of young twin girls just staring at him, their little eyes were filled with anger. Your hand reached around for the shotgun to get rid of them, but it seemed Dean was quicker on the draw, taking the shot. “Dean, kitchen. Cutlery drawer. It’s got a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood.”

“Opium?”

“Go!”

Dean threw his hands up and headed off to the kitchen to get the supplies. You placed a hand against your stomach when you felt the pain you’d been fighting off with adrenaline slowly kick back in. As you pressed your free hand against the desk, watching as Bobby began drawing a diagram from the book. But it seemed the young girls from before were back. They stood at the edge of the salt line and stared at the man, capturing his attention.

“You walked right by us while that monster ate us all up.”

“You could have saved us.”

You reached for the gun and pointed the barrel at them, you pulled the trigger, breaking the man out of his concentration on them. Both of you gave each other a look before you went back to work until he finished the drawing. You and him began grabbing all sorts of supplies from the floor to get started on the next step. Sam was still upstairs looking for the box, but your attention was drawn to the kitchen when you saw the double doors slam shut. You walked forward to the edge of the salt line and called out Dean’s name in a worried tone.

“I’m alright, Y/N!” Dean’s voice echoed from the other side. “Keep working!”

You let out a quiet sigh and walked back to the desk, but your eyes trailed over to the clock. You’d give him another minute before you were heading in there to see what was going on. A few moments later, when you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the staircase, you saw Sam walking forward with a large wooden box in his hands. You looked back at the kitchen before grabbing the shotgun, your gut was telling you something was wrong. It shouldn’t have been taking him this long to grab a few ingredients, unless he’d been visited by an old friend.

You trailed behind in the other way into the kitchen, knowing the doors were sealed shut after you quickly tried. You opened the door to see that Dean was standing right across the room, and from the pained expression on his face, Henricksen wasn’t giving him a pat on the back for what’d done. Quieting your breathing, you walked forward and put the barrel of the gun against the spirit’s head before you pulled the trigger. Dean let out a gasp when he finally got the chance to suck in a breath of air before his body was dropping to the ground. He began coughing as he placed a hand against his chest, where Henriksen’s own had been after he tried ripping out the hunter’s heart. You dropped to his level and examined him for any further injures other than the chest pains.

“You alright” You asked him.

Dean scoffed, “No.”

You rolled your eyes, “Let’s go.”

You helped the man back up to his feet, best as you could with your own injuries. He grabbed the supplies and followed behind you as you headed out of the double doors, you pushed them open and jumped back into the salt line where Sam and Bobby waited for you two to join. Dean put down the wooden bowl filled with the three glass bottles with the ingredients Bobby asked for. You placed down shotgun back down for a moment as you watched the oldest hunter begin the spell by mixing the concoctions together. Sam took guard as he waited for any spirits to come round as Dean reloaded his gun, dropping the plastic casings to the floor. His attention was drawn away for a moment when he saw Ronald again, the man stood at the edge of the saltline as he watched the hunter’s every move.

“Ronald, hey.” Dean tried talking to the spirit with a friendly tone. He’d hoped there was an ounce of the old Ronald still in there, the one who’d risked his life and banned together with him and you back at the bank. “Come on, man. I thought we were pals.”

“That’s when I was breathing.” Ronald said. His lips stretched into a toothy grin from the threat he said next. “Now I’m gonna eat you alive.”

Dean laughed, pretending to go along with the act as he shoved the last bullet into the barrel of the gun. “Well, come on, I’m not a cheeseburger.” He lightheartedly joked as he shoved the gun back together. And before the spirit could know it, Dean pointed the barrel down at Ronald with his finger on the trigger. But when he got himself into position, the spirit was gone.

Your gut began to become filled with an uneasy feeling as you grabbed the shotgun again and examined the entire room. Bobby began chanting the spell as he started mixing everything together in the bowl. And it seemed as he began furthering the process along, the spirits weren’t too happy about being put back to rest. A sudden gust of wind came flying from the outside, ripping open the shutters and causing chaos to be unleashed in the room. Leaves and debris from the outside came flying in as papers began to scatter themselves around the room, you and Bobby tried your hardest to keep everything in place as the boys looked around for who could be doing this, yet neither of you noticed the break in the saltline before it was too late.

The wind slowly stopped blowing around the room, giving you all a second of peace and quiet. You looked over your shoulder as you turned around to face what was going on. Sam seemed to have noticed the saltine first, he took a shot at Meg when he saw her coming forward. But when she disappeared, Henricksen wasn’t too far to follow, Sam took another shot at the spirit. These guns could only hold so many rounds, he’d stopped for a moment to reload, yet it was the perfect time for Meg to come back and try to sneak her way in. These guns could only hold so many rounds, he’d stopped for a moment to reload, yet it was the perfect time for Meg to come back and try to sneak her way in. Before she could take another step you quickly shouted at the man to duck as you took a shot at her, she disappeared from sight. You cautiously whipped your head to Dean, only to see Ronald come charging forward, you grumbled in frustration as you pumped the shotgun before you shot again.

Luckily Dean seemed to have notice the threat, he tried himself to cover for you, but just like what happened to you, his gun was ripped out of his hands. Dean didn’t let that stop him as he reached for Bobby’s weapon and drew it at Henricksen, only to find it was empty when he pulled the trigger. It seemed the old agent found this amusing, his lips stretched into a small smirk. Once a dick in real life, sometimes personalities never changed. As he began getting closer, you frantically looked around for something to find, only to see your vision was going blurry from suddenly being thrown around the room. You let out a wince of pain when you felt your backside be slammed against the bookcase. You opened your eyes to see that things were about to only get worse.

Dean managed to get Henricksen away when he grabbed an iron poker from the fireplace, but you didn’t move when he vanished. Sam accidentally ran out of ammunition himself, he was forced to stop for a moment to reload his gun. But before he could given get the bullets out of his jacket, he saw a heavy piece of furniture coming forward at him, and you barely gave him enough of a warning before he was being in placed next to you. Both of you were now pinned in place, thanks to Meg, she’d gotten what she wanted. Two people down, now all she need was to take care of Dean before she got the man she’d wanted in the first place. You and Sam tried your hardest to push the desk off yourselves, you were using all the remaining fiber of energy in your body to help him, but it suddenly felt the pressure becoming worse.

You opened your eyes to see the little girls from before were now leaning on the wood. They were staring at you with those little cynical eyes, their strands of dirty brunette covered their faces as the both of them worked together to push the desk even farther into your bodies. You could feel yourself losing the battle as you struggled to fight them off, even Sam was struggling. But your attention was drawn away to the other side of the room when you heard Bobby let out a groan of pain. You saw Meg standing behind him with her hand deep inside his chest. Bobby accidentally let out of the bowl full of ingredients slip from his grip when the pressure became too much for him. Your eyes widened when you saw the only chance to get out of this mess alive go straight down to the floor.

“Dean!” You yelled, knowing he was the only person who was still standing.

The oldest Winchester managed to realize what was going on before it was too late. He dropped to the floor, and the hunter insists that his father taught him kicked in full force, managing to grab the bowl before the ingredients to fall out. “Fireplace!” Bobby instructed, it was the last step in the spell for this to be over. Dean did as he was told, he crawled over to the fireplace and threw the contents in, the flames turned into a hue of blue before a sudden burst of light came rushing through the room. You shielded yourself when it became too blinding to look at. You waited a moment until you cautiously looked up, wondering if you were going to see all of the spirits surrounding you. Yet you were surprised to notice nobody of the undead was around anymore. You glanced over at Sam when he turned his attention over to you, the both of you nodded your head before you shoved the desk off your bodies, allowing you a chance to properly breathe.

When you looked over at Bobby to see how he was doing, your face dropped into a worried expression when he was now lying on the floor. The brothers rushed over to see if he was in critical condition from what Meg had done to him. But Bobby was a strong man, he’d pushed himself to a sitting position and soothed the pain by letting in deep breaths. You leaned against the wooden desk and let out a sigh of relief.

Part Four:

You quietly tipped tiptoed around the wooden floors as you got up from the couch, in the darkness of the night you tried your hardest not to trip over the brothers who were sleeping peacefully on the ground below. You couldn’t help but let out a yawn as your arms stretched themselves over your head when you saw how late it was. Even though you’d been sleeping for hours, quite peacefully after the gruesome fight that left you recollecting on past hunts, your mind seemed to have drifted away from the past. You stepped into the kitchen when your mind was only focused on getting something to drink and taking a few more painkillers to make the bruising around your stomach to stop hurting. You grabbed a clean glass from the dish rack and placed it over the faucet, you filled it up halfway and grabbed the bottle from the counter. Twisting off the childproof top and quietly placing it down, you put a few into your mouth before taking a sip of the lukewarm water to swallow them down.

But the process didn’t go all that easy from an unfamiliar voice rang inside your ears without a warning. “I thought I was clear enough about you staying away, Y/N.” You turned your head to the side, you saw the new stranger leaning against the kitchen counter, his vessel’s face was stretched into a scowl. You swallowed down another sip of water as you turned around to look at Castiel, you raised a brow. “You shouldn’t test my patience. I can send you back to Hell.”

“Go ahead.” You whispered, your lips stretching into a smirk. “I heard it’s warm all year round.”

You could see the little sarcastic remark didn’t settle well with the angel, but before he could spite you, the ruffling sounds of blankets brought both of your attention to across the room where you saw someone awake from their slumber. You could see in the darkness of the moonlight Dean get up from his makeshift bed from the floor after hearing strange noises. He noticed that his brother was passed out next to him, Dean’s head turned over to see where you could have gone. A moment of panic washed over his facial expressions when he noticed you weren’t there, but when he turned his head to the kitchen, you saw him calm down, until who he saw standing next to you. He pushed himself to his feet and headed forward into the kitchen, wanting to know what this was about. As if nothing happened between the both of you, Castiel greeted the man.

“Excellent job with the witnesses.” Castiel complimented, your brows furrowed when he glanced over at you. Suddenly his tone changed when he spoke again. Instead of threatening you, he’d given you a compliment on a job well done. Sort of. “And I must say, you’ve surprised me, Y/N. You did better than we’d thought.”

“I’m always here to please.” You sarcastically implied. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

Castiel nonchalantly shrugged, “I was, uh, made aware.”

You quietly scoffed as Dean headed forward closer to the both of you. You couldn’t help but shake your head as you brought the cup to your lips, trying to keep yourself from lashing out. But it seemed Dean had you covered on this one. “Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance.” Dean hissed at the man. He placed a hand against his chest. “You know, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest. And Y/N nearly got her skull bashed. Not to mention almost being crushed to death.”

“But you didn’t.” Castiel said. “And Y/N seems to be all right.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to my bruised stomach and minor concussion.” You muttered underneath your breath as you took another sip of your water. When you glanced up at him, you caught him staring at you with a disapproving look. “I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos—you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks.”

“Read the bible. Educate yourself before you make assumptions.” Castiel said. It was your turn to give him a dirty look. “Angels are warriors of God. I’m a soldier.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked the angel . “Why didn’t you fight?”

“I’m not here to perch on your shoulder, Dean.” Castiel said. “We had larger concerns.”

“Concerns? There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way,” Dean couldn’t help himself but start an argument that had been weighing on his mind with the one person who could give him real answers. “While all of this is going down, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?”

Castiel stared at the hunter, “There’s a God.”

“I’m not convinced.” Dean argued back. “Cause if there’s a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?”

“The Lord works—”

“If you say ‘mysterious ways,’ so help me, I will kick your ass.”

Castiel threw his hands up in defense at the hunter’s threat, all though it was nothing, it caused a moment of silence to fall between the three of you. As you glanced over at Dean for a moment, you had a feeling Castiel wasn’t here wasting his precious angelic time threatening a person like you. There had been a bigger reason, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. "So, Bobby was right, about the witnesses.” You began, your eyes trailed over to Castiel for his input on the matter. “This is some kind of a sign of the apocalypse, huh?”

“That’s why we’re here.” Castiel answered. “Big things afoot.”

“Do we want to know what kind of things?” Dean cautiously asked.

“I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. And it recently came to my attention it would be better if we kept you informed, too, Y/N.” Castiel explained. You were slightly taken back, all though you were curious to find out why you were dragged into this mess, he cut right to the chase. “The rising of the witnesses is one of the sixty-six seals.”

“Okay.” Dean mumbled, his words coming out slowly before a sarcastic remark worked its way into the conversation. “I’m guessing that’s not a show at SeaWorld.”

“Those seals are broken by Lilith.” Castiel explained one more, very crucial, detail.

Lilith, the demon who’d wanted your head on a stick, the one who wanted your head on a stick, put you and Dean in Hell. Your mind began processing the information, you let out a quiet sigh. “She did the spell.” You suspected. “She rose the witnesses.”

“Mmhmm. And not just here.” Castiel said. “Twenty other hunters are dead.”

“Of course.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes. “She picked victims that the hunters couldn’t save so that they would barrel right after us.”

“Lilith has,” Castiel picked his wording properly about the situation. “A certain sense of humor.”

“Trust me, I know that better than anyone.” You mumbled, a quiet chuckle escaping your mouth before it faded into a second of silence. “But we put those spirits back to rest. Shouldn’t that slow down her progress? Or put it back?”

"It doesn’t matter.” Castiel said. “The seal was broken. We can’t undo it.”

“Why break the seal anyway?” Dean asked.

Castiel let out a sigh, trying to think of a visual description the both of you could understand. “You think of the seals as locks on a door.”

“Okay.” You said, nodding your head. “The last one opens and…”

You watched as Castiel pushed himself off the counter and turned his body so that he was now facing you and Dean head on. It was a moment before he answered. “Lucifer walks free.”

The answer wasn’t what you were expecting to hear. You were stricken speechless, not sure if you should nervously laugh from hearing such a speculation, or start running for the hills before Hell on earth came. Your eyes trailed over to Dean to see how he was processing all of this information, but it seemed he was taken back as you were from the infamous name. The Devil himself. You heard from demons that he’d been either a fictional character, some might have said the same thing about God. But people still believed both existed.

“Lucifer?” You repeated the name, Castiel nodded his head. “I thought Lucifer was just a story to keep people believing in the big man upstairs. There’s no such thing.”

“Three days ago, you both thought there was no such thing as me.” Castiel said. “Why do you think we’re here walking among you now for the first time in two thousand years?”

Your mouth opened to make a sarcastic remark about not knowing, but the answer suddenly dawned on you. He wasn’t lying to you. “To stop Lucifer.”

Castiel nodded his head. He seemed happy to hear you and Dean were listening. “That’s why we’ve arrived.”

“Well, bang-up job so far.” You sarcastically remarked. You turned around and placed your cup into the sink before facing him again. You gave him a smirk as you leaned against the countertop. “Stellar work with the witnesses. That’s nice.”

“We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we’ll win,” Castiel didn’t seem to happy from your comments. He tried defending himself, but you could feel the hostility come off from how he was glaring at you. What he said next only furthered his bitter resentment. “Some we’ll lose. This one we lost. Along with another one. It seemed we weren’t informed as well on the matter as we should have been.”

“Well,” You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced over the other side of the room, your comment was slipped underneath your breath out of habit. “I bet humanity is so happy to be in such good hands.”

A few chuckles of amusement dared to come out from your throat as you glanced over at the angel to see how he would react. But it seems you had stuck a sensitive nerve inside Castiel; he took a step forward into your comfort zone, his body towered over yours. He looked down upon you with superiority, as if that was going to make you back down and fear him. Instead you stood a little taller and waited for the backlash.

“Our numbers are not unlimited, Y/N. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of heaven should just follow you and Dean around? There’s a bigger picture here. I would understand if someone of your particular didn’t comprehend how dire this entire situation is.” Castiel said. You could feel your nails dig into your flesh, hard enough to leave indent marks on your skin when you subconsciously traced over them as he continued. “I’m being generous for letting you live this long after I told you to stay away. You should show me some respect. I can throw you back in after you were wrongfully pulled out, if I may add.”

You nervously swallowed from the threat as you looked around the room, for someone who had just about a sentence laced with sarcasm for whatever Castiel, he managed to silence you with the idea of going back to Hell. But it seemed that Dean wasn’t afraid to bite the hand that pulled him out of the pit, he was now becoming enraged from the threat against you. He placed a hand lightly on your shoulder and stepped forward so he was now hovering over you with his gaze hardening on the angel. You felt him give a squeeze before he spoke.

“Y/N’s right. You really are a bunch of dicks.” Dean doesn’t seem to hesitate of defending you. Castiel looks away from you and to the man he’d pulled out of Hell. The look on his face is calm, almost as if he’s waiting to put the same threat as he did to Dean. “Y/N’s not going anywhere. And you sure as hell ain’t making her go back there. Over my dead body.”

"I do what I am told. Some of my people view Y/N as a possible threat. We believe it’s best if she remains away until we figure out how to stop Lilith. If you don’t, then I’m afraid there will be consequences. For the both of you.” Castiel said, defending himself for his action. Butean didn’t budge like he’d hoped. The angel let out a quiet sigh. “I warned you both. If this problem isn’t solved soon, don’t think I won’t will take matters into my own hands.”

Before either one of you could lash out from the threat, you heard the sound of wings fluttering, and when you blinked, Castiel was gone.

\+ + +

You weren’t the one to give into petty threats from monsters. You always liked to test their limits to see how far you could push them. But you awoke an hour before the sun was set to rise, and since you couldn’t go back to sleep, you began thinking about taking a break from hunting for a few months. If the apocalypse was really on the rise, like Castiel had said, and how he’d been persistent about keeping you away, maybe it would make the both of you happy if you just did that. You weren’t going to sit inside your house for weeks and stare at the wall, pretending to go back to that same cut and dry routine that’s been your life since your mother passed. But you did miss sleeping in your own bed and just spending time researching for the brothers. Maybe it would give Bobby a break for once. You did bug him a lot.

The decision seemed to have been set in motion when you spent most of the morning packing up your belongings so they were now sitting next to the front door. All of your belongings that had been inside the Impala’s trunk and the duffel bag that you brought when starting this journey again were now together. You placed your hands on your hips, you’d gotten a lot of progress done right before anyone woke up. You even got showered and dressed yourself in something that wasn’t wrinkled and buried deep in the bottom of your bag. But you couldn’t fight off the urge for caffeine as you let out a yawn. You decided to leave the rest of packing for later and headed off to the kitchen to grab the coffee that had been brewing.

You instantly noticed that you weren’t alone anymore when you stepped inside the room. The brothers had gotten up a few minutes ago, Dean was still rubbing the crust out of his eyes as Sam was pouring himself a cup for everyone. You graciously took the ceramic cup away from the younger man’s hand as you let the warmth of the burning hot liquid sink into your skin. As you leaned yourself against the desk, you looked over at Dean, wondering if he was going to bring up what happened last night. But it seemed he wasn’t even barely conscious yet as he took a sip of his coffee. You bit the inside of your cheek. This was going to be like ripping off a bandaid, but it had to be done.

“What do you think about me going on a mini… vacation?” You popped the question. The room felt silent when the brothers glanced over at you for a moment. Sam’s brow scrunched up, not sure what exactly you were getting at. But Dean didn’t seem too pleased, he put the cup to his lips and took a drink, you were giving in. “I’ve been thinking about going back home for a few months. I think it would be best for me to get away from the monsters and being on the road all the time. We could kind of take things back to the way it used to be until I feel up to it.”

Sam reacted the way you’d expected; he wasn’t too worried about you running off by yourself again, he probably thought it would have been for the best, after all, it’d been less than three weeks since you’d gotten out of Hell. Wounds were still fresh between the both of you. Neither one of you spoken about the tact you’d gotten possessed by the demon who wanted the both of you dead—and then allowed him to be ripped to shreds right in front of the younger man’s eyes. This was a conversation that was going to be nothing more than awkward and painful, and you hoped you would never have to talk about it again. Dean, on the other hand, didn’t seem too pleased with you giving up so easily. He wanted the two of you close. Because you and him were finally back together. And there still was so much he’d wanted to explore before the hunting life caught back up with everyone.

“When are you planning on leaving?” Dean had to ask the dreaded question. You bit the inside of your cheek and stare off at something in the distance, your silence is the answer he’d been dreading to hear. “You wanna leave today, don’t you? Well, you’ve got impeccable timing.”

"Everything is all packed up. I was gonna head out this afternoon.” You said, your thumb pointing over your shoulder when you directed to the outside where your car was still parked. “Thought it might be better than leaving in the middle of the night. I know it’s not great, with everything going on. But I just think it would be for the best—just until we really know what’s happening out there.”

It seemed you weren’t giving them much of a choice to let you run off on your own. Unlike them, you’d had another life and a home that was going to call you back eventually. Sam let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders, he looked over at his brother to see how he was handling the news, but his brow furrowed when he saw the man downing the rest of his coffee. Dean slammed the cup to the countertop and let out a noise, wincing from the accidental internal burns he gave himself from downing the drink too quickly. You gave him a concerned look, wondering if he was all right, but it seemed he proved to be just fine from what he said next.

“You want to leave? Fine by me. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll get ready.“ Dean said. You raised a brow from his offer, not sure why you couldn’t have left by yourself. But the plan he’d laid out for everyone had subtle hints of his real motive that made the ends of your lips stretch into a small smile. "Sam, why don’t you stay back? I’ll drive Y/N home and you can ride back in her car. Sound good?”

\+ + +

A few minutes of waiting accidentally turned into twenty after Dean grabbed some fresh clothing to take a quick shower. You spent the time waiting for him by loading up the Impala with your own bags and ignoring Sam’s grin when he began suspecting of what was going on. He caught you and his brother in a compromising position, adding up the little details over the years, it seemed he wasn’t afraid to jab at the elephant in the room. The topic soon changed when Bobby wondered what was going on, and when you told him the news of you leaving, he didn’t take the idea very well, but just as the boys had agreed, he silenced his protests. He hadn’t been to Hell and back like you, sometimes you needed to get away from the violence after it’d been the only thing you’ve seen for months down there. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

You and Sam were occupying the kitchen as you nursed the last sips of your coffee, you sat at the desk with a random book that caught your attention. You mindlessly flipped through the pages, skimming through new information as your eyes examines the descriptive paintings of the creatures you were reading about. When you hear the sound of boots coming across the floors, you glance up to see that it was Dean. You could feel the ends of your lips stretch into a smile when you caught the sight of him wearing his beat up leather jacket and peeks of a red collar. He grabbed the crimson red button up you’d loved so much on him. You take one last sip of your drink before you close the book shut and set the coffee cup down to the desk. Shoving your hands inside your jeans, you toss Sam the keys to your car before giving him a warning about not getting any scratches.

“Maybe you should spend time away from this one.” Bobby couldn’t help himself but take a jab the oldest Winchester from what you’d said. You let out a small laugh as Dean rolled his eyes, obviously not liking the fact he’d been the butt of a joke. “Take care of yourself, kid. Don’t be going off and do something stupid, you hear me?”

"Trust me, I think I got all of the reckless behavior out of my system.” You muttered underneath your breath. You gave him a smile as you push yourself to your feet. “It’s just for a few months away from hunting. I think you’ll both survive without me, right?”

Sam responded with an eye roll as Dean scoffed, the brothers had spent years on the road before with their father. You had been traveling with them for a handful of years now. These next two months were going to fly by, at least, you wanted to believe. You give your goodbyes to the two men before you’re following behind Dean, hopeful the long car drive wouldn’t be just awkward conversation and the radio playing to pass the long day’s drive ahead for the both of you.

\+ + +

It seemed you had been wrong about a silent drive all the way home. You and him had spent almost all of the ride back talking. It was one of the moments where nothing was off limits, you’d talked about past memories of your childhood as he discussed how life was like on the road, everything you’d never really asked about, all the little gritty details, he told you about. You sort of felt bad for a moment when he told you about how his father left him alone for hours, sometimes days at a time alone, in motels. But it seemed he didn’t really linger on that too long. He told you all about the crazy meals him and Sam would make just for experimentations. The thought made your stomach turn, but Dean got a laugh out of how you responded.

You talked for a little while about your own childhood of growing up without them. You told him about how you wouldn’t speak to your mother for a week after you moved to where you lived now. But talking about your problems, it all seemed too normal and petty for all of his struggles that he went through. But Dean never said anything, he just listened, soaking up all the details about your life he’d missed out on. You gotten halfway through a story about something that happened in your early teens, but as your eyes flicker to the clock on the dashboard, your eyes widen at the time. You seen that it was a little after nine at night, darkness had fallen a few hours ago, and as you open your mouth to ask where you were, the sudden familiarity of the sights made your heart start sinking in disappointment. It would only be about an hour before you would be back at home.

Dean seems to have sense your silence, he took his eyes off the road for a moment as he glanced over at you, the disappointment became written in your facial expression. When he glanced back at the road, he began thinking of ways to make this day go a little longer. “Are you hungry? I’m starving.” He suggests at stopping at that one diner that should be coming up soon, the place where he’d always stopped and grab something to eat on the way to your house when he would make visits when you were still living at home. Your nod your head, he couldn’t help himself but smile in satisfaction when you seem to become content with the idea. It takes another few minutes before the familiar diner comes into view, he takes a sharp right before the Impala pulls into the nearly empty parking lot. You’re about to reach for the door handle to get out of the car, knowing Dean always hated doing the food run, but he takes you by surprise.

“Sit your little ass down. I don’t let my dates lift a finger. You want the usual?“

You hear him slip the word, date, the one you and him discussed the day before when you arrived back at Bobby’s after spending a few days away. You quickly nod your head, mumbling a yes when he waits for your answer. It surprises you for a moment when he remembers the exact order you hadn’t gotten in at least five years. But he gives you a smile before you watch him slip out of the car and head to the diner where an older woman is working behind the counter. Her face seems to light up from seeing someone stroll in here, it gives her and the cook something to do, and an under fifteen minutes you’re holding a scolding hot paper bag in your lap. You think from how heavy it feels he ordered food for Sam, too. But the thought gets crossed with another when you see the Impala isn’t going in the direction of where your house is, he keeps driving.

it seemed that Dean didn’t want to spend the last night with you at your house or even with Sam. He admitted to telling his brother to come into town, but to stay at a motel near by. You and the oldest Winchester had a set plan, no third wheel needed to ruin the fun you’d been having with Dean all day. You saw that he was pulling into the lake you’d spent a few times at during your teen years with other friends. The Impala pulled up to an empty field with no other cars around, just the two of you and the breathtaking sight of the miles of water ahead. You lean forward in your seat to see the moon is full and the there’s not a cloud in sight, when Dean kills the headlights, the night sky opens up for you to see the stars. You look over at Dean. He’s becoming a bit nervous to see how you were going to react from the first date he’d tried pulling with such short notice.

“It’s not great, but…” Dean trails off, he glances around the scenery.

You can feel your lips stretching into a grin, “It’s perfect.”

Dean’s lips stretch into a faint smile, you can see in the darkness that he seems relieved from your answer. He suggests eating outside to enjoy the view a bit better, you agree. You reach out a hand to open your door, but he stops you, only for you to grumble in annoyance as your eyes flicker over to him. Dean gives you a chuckle as he slides out of the car and heads over to your side, only to open up the passenger door and peeks his head down. You see his hand reach out for yours, he wants to help you out like a gentleman. A smile creeps at the ends of your lips from all the stops he was pulling out for you. He grabs the bag of food and pulls you out of the car with no effort. You glance around the area to see you’re both alone as you head to the hood where you take the liberty and pull yourself up, the heat from the engine soaks into the fabric of your jeans as you lean backwards with your palms outstretched as you lean backwards.

“Our lives are weird.” You can’t help yourself but make the comment that’s been burning in the back of your mind since you left. You take the container of food Dean got for you and opened it up, your mouth begins watering at the amora of the familiar smells. He gives you a curious look as he unwraps the metal tinfoil of his hamburger. You seem a bit hesitant to speak about it, knowing it might ruin a perfectly good moment. “I mean, I just got out of Hell not even three weeks ago. You barely have been alive for a week. But here we are–as if nothing happened.”

“Did you not wanna do this?” Dean couldn’t help himself but speak with a mouth full of half chewed food. You give him a look as he takes a few more bites before roughly swallowing. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t wanna do, you know. I can totally respect that. We can just pretend like nothing happened.”

You can’t help yourself but let out a little laugh from how he started acting nervous. The man had all sorts of experience with the ladies. He could charm the pants off anyone he laid eyes on. But this

new territory. And he was nothing but a gentleman about it. You and him were best friends, he’d known you before you were even born. You admitted this was weird, but you were overcome with a nervous excitement. “No. No, I wanna see where this can go.” You admit. Now it’s time for your turn to bashful as you look down at your food. “It’s just, Dean, I don’t know if you realize this, but our lives aren’t exactly normal.”

"Yeah. But you make feel that way–normal, like everything is gonna be all right. That’s what I love about you.” Dean admits. He drops his food to the crumbled up foil. You can’t help but sink your teeth into your bottom lip, he walks forward so he’s now positioning himself between your slightly parted legs. He slowly moves the food off your body before he places his hands against your knees, but only for a moment. They slowly begin pushing themselves upwards, running along your denim clad thighs, you can’t help but let out a slight gasp when he pulls you forward so your feet are hanging off the edge of the hood. You let in a breath when you’re staring into his eyes. “You don’t know the feeling I got when I saw that you were alive. I don’t care what happened four months ago. And I sure as hell don’t like this Castiel freak threatening you. But it keeps you safe…I guess we’ll just have to make this work, huh?“

You nod your head, knowing he was right. Before you can dawn on the bitter memory of having to leave Dean for the next few months. There was no saying he couldn’t come and visit for a night or two with Sam. And you both still had phone calls. But you couldn’t linger on the thought any longer when Dean leaned forward and captured your lips against his own.

\+ + +

It was around midnight when you finally got home. Your mind is filled with nothing but blissful thoughts as you make it inside your house. The duffel bags of your dirty clothes are sitting in the downstairs laundry room, waiting to be washed in the afternoon. You draw up a hot bath, adding in your favorite scents to make the spur of the moment treat a bit more relaxing. You head out from the bathroom when you turn off the water so you can grab a towel from the linen closet in the hall to grab a towel. As you opened up the door, something catches your attention. You see from the corner of your eye that you have a perfect view of the window that overlooks the neighborhood. But it’s the flickering lights coming from the lamp post that makes you a bit nervous.

You think for a moment that it could have been a possible threat. Maybe there’s something outside that is lingering around, waiting for its perfect moment to attack. You quietly close the door and start making a mental plan of what to do. But you don’t get very far from what happens next. You notice that you’re not alone. There’s two strangers standing in the hall, a male and female. You don’t recognize their faces, but you can feel the same gut wrenching feeling sink into your bones when you see the familiar shades of milky white flicker in their eyes. You can feel yourself starting to back away in fear, knowing the both of them had made your life nothing but painful. One had sent you to Hell, and other spent years torturing you over and over again down there.

"Oh, Y/N. I thought you’d never come back.” Lilith steps forward, her lips stretching into a grin. Your eyes wander away from her new body as your eyes trail over to the knife she was holding. You think for a moment she’s going to kill you again, to get revenge after sneaking your way out of Hell. He’s just here to make sure his favorite toy was back. But when you see her take the blade and painlessly slices her wrist, you could feel a fresh rush of anxiety when you hear what she says next. But it’s not directed to you, it’s directed to Alastair. “Will you make sure she stays still? I need to make sure she gets every last drop of my blood.”


	3. In the Beginning.

Your fingers subconsciously wrapped themselves around the comforters until your knuckles turned a ghostly white, your body curled itself closer, trying to calm down from the nightmares that plagued your mind. You can still taste the blood in your mouth, even if you spent almost an hour trying to scrub your teeth—but the memories of the bitter copper taste lingers on your tongue. And to make matters only worse, every little memory, all the little gritty details of Hell are coming back to you. The night before and the four months you spent burning clash together, giving the worse terrors you’d ever faced in your entire life. You can recollect on every single detail. Every screams and pleads for the torture to stop, how the pain was inflicted on your body. Nothing in your entire life came close to what you went through. It felt like you were down there for forty years. But the sad truth is that it’s been barely four months before you were pulled out.

The last memory crosses your mind before your eyes finally rip themselves open to stop the terror. Instead of seeing a demon’s grinning face, you’re only faced with the digital red letters of the alarm clock on your nightstand. You see that it’s a little after midnight when you come to your senses. You take a deep breath as you force yourself into a sitting position on the bed. You push your knees to your chest and look at the sea of darkness that clouds your vision with only a crack of light coming from the hallway. You’ve been sleeping for almost ten hours now, more than you’ve gotten in one night when you were on the road hunting, you must have passed out after scrubbing the hallway clean and pouring salt and eat each crack of your house. There’s no way you were going to let them back in. You can’t help but pull the sheets closer to your body to make you feel a bit safer.

For a moment you think about calling the brothers to them what’s going on. You know Sam would understand. But you can’t even get yourself to move, let alone walk across the room and grab your cell phone that’s sitting on your dresser. You feel like a frightened child, waiting for the moment for when you step on the floor something bad is going to happen, the boogeyman who’s hiding underneath the bed is going to grab your ankle and drag you into the never ending darkness. You close your eyes for a moment from the thought and take a deep breath to calm down your anxiety.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your eyelids pop open when you hear a voice right next to you. You quickly turn your head to the other side of the bed as a familiar sense of fear rushes through your body. You quickly stumble for the lamp that is sitting right on the nightstand next to your bed, light floods through the room to see who the stranger is. Your heartbeat begins to quicken at the sight. Castiel is sitting at the edge of the bed, and the bastard has the audacity to sit there was a casual look on his face. “And what were you dreaming about?”

“Sunshines and rainbows.” You sarcastically lie, the words muttered underneath your breath as you reach for the blankets. Castiel sit there with a slight frown stretching across his lips from your response. Strangely enough, when you notice that he’s not here to hurt you, you feel safe enough to rip the sheets off your body and stretch your tense muscles As you shuffle out of bed, it isn’t hard to notice the clothes you went to bed in were sticking to your body. You want to take a cold shower, hopeful that it could calm down your nerves that are still on edge, but there’s still an unwanted guest that needs your attention. “Does watching people sleep get you off or something? Maybe it’s bugging the living hell out of people.”

Castiel gives you a blank stare, “Listen to me. I need your help.”

"You need my help? Honestly, you’re giving me whiplash.” You said. Castiel furrowed his brow, as if he wasn’t sure what you meant by that saying. You rolled your eyes from his reaction. “I’m doing what you want. What else could you possibly need me for?”

“There’s a matter that I believe you could be of assistance. You’re not my first choice, but I think you could help Dean very much if you came along. You might even learn something.” Castiel said. You hated how he spoke to you, passive aggressive was something he’d got down. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed and walked forward to you. “Listen to me. You need to stop it.”

It was your turn to give him a confused looked, “Stop what?”

But your question never gets answered. You watched as Castiel stretched out his arm, and before you realized, he put his index and middle finger against your forehead.

\+ + +

“Move it, lovebirds. You can’t sleep here.”

Your eyelids pressed themselves together when you heard an unfamiliar voice bring you back into reality. You winced at the aching feeling that spread from your neck to your lower back, only gotten this way if you had been sleeping in a sitting position, and for some strange reason, you were propped up by another body. You only gotten this way if you’d been sleeping in a sitting position when you accidentally passed out on the couch, and for some strange reason, you noticed you were propped up by another body. You came into full consciousness when you inhaled the familiar scents of gasoline and the lingering cologne, you even felt your cheek brush against the cold leather. Opening your eyes, you could feel a sense of panic wash over you when you noticed you weren’t in your bedroom anymore.

“Okay.” It was Dean’s gruff and sleepy voice that made the events from before come crashing back to you. Castiel was to blame for the reason why you and Dean were sitting on a bench in the middle of some town you’d never been to. You glanced down to see that you weren’t in your pajamas, somehow you’d changed into jeans and one of your clean flannel shirts. You looked over your shoulder to see there was a cop with a rather outdated handlebar moustache looming over the both of you with an annoyed expression. “Sleep where?”

“Anywhere but here.” The cop said.

Neither you or Dean were focused on what the office was saying, each of you were more concerned over the matter of how you got here. It was a moment of mouthed words and hand gestures before the familiar name was settled on. You glanced over your shoulder to see that the cop was already halfway down the sidewalk before you could explain what was going on. Dean shrugged off his leather jacket off his body and began going through the contents to see what he was left with. Dean took out his father’s journal, something he’d never leave anywhere with, until he pulled his cell phone. As he began searching for a signal, you shoved a hand inside your pocket to see if you were lucky enough to have your phone, but of course, you’d only stumbled across empty pockets and some lint. You looked over at Dean to see if had anything, he shook his head. You let out a quiet sigh and looked around at your surroundings.

“Hey,” Dean brings your attention back over to him when you see his hand is pointed out and directly at a small diner. “Maybe someone know where the hell we are.”

You knew it was better than sitting around and waiting for Castiel to pop up and explain what was going on. You follow behind Dean as the both of you cross the street and walk inside the restaurant, you can feel a headache forming from whatever he did to you. The place seems to be pretty busy from the looks of it, the both of you make your way to the counter where you grab a few stools. You glance around the room only to feel a sense of almost nostalgia, like you’ve been here before. A conversation coming from the small group caught your attention, you looked over to see a man was sitting next to Dean with a couple talking away, your eyes lingered down to see the woman was juggling a few things. From her dress she’d been wearing it was clear enough she was showing off a small baby bump with a wedding ring on her left hand.

Dean rubbed his eyes before he leaned over, breaking the trio from their conversation. “Hey, do any of you know where the hell we are?”

“Jay Bird’s Diner.” The man sitting next to Dean answered.

“Yeah, thanks.” Dean muttered, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I mean, uh, city and state.”

You could hear a chuckle coming from the man sitting as he glanced over at the other male, both of them seemed amused from Dean’s confusion. “Lawrence, Kansas.” It was the man standing’s turn to answer. You could feel a scoff coming out from what you heard. Dean glanced over at you, obviously something was worth coming back home for. “Are you two okay?”

“Yeah.” You said, nodding your head. “We just had a tough night.”

The woman’s lips stretched into a warm smile when she glanced over at you and Dean, seeming to make a few assumptions of what you had been up to. She waved her left hand in the air to grab to grab the attention of the person working over the counter. “Hey, two coffees here, Reg.” You gave her a small smile before your eyes dropped back down as you began waiting for the caffeine fix you’d desperately needed.

Dean shoved a hand inside his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, he flipped it open and leaned back over slightly again to show the group of people. You didn’t seem to notice their reactions from them, they were too busy snickering at the device. “Can you tell me where I can get reception on this thing?” Dean curiously asked, the man standing let out a quiet chuckle as the one sitting scoffed underneath his breath.

“The U.S.S. Enterprise?” The one standing presumed.

You furrowed your brow from the response you weren’t expecting to hear. But your attention lingered up when you saw the guy come back with two cups of coffee. You reached for a few packets of sugar, yet your gaze lingered on him, you bit your bottom lip to keep a smile from spreading across your lips from what you saw him wearing. A faux vest and a shirt with some psychedelic pattern, not to mention some huge glasses that tied the look all together. "Nice threads.” Dean complimented with a sarcastic tone as he brought the cup to his lips. “You know Sonny and Cher broke up, right?”

The woman seemed taken back by the news, “Sonny and Cher broke up?”

You glanced over to see that everyone was now stricken with shock, as if they had been dealt with tragic news. You couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong here. Out of curiosity, you turned around in your stool to glance around the diner, your eyes began to widen slightly, you began to notice you stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone in here was dressed like they were in some other decade. Men were wearing tacky business suits as women wore dresses or flowing outfits with floral designs. You quickly glanced over to see an abandoned newspaper sitting at the edge of the counter. “Nixon accepts resignation” was the headline. You pushed yourself further closer to read the date–April 30th, 1973. You quickly calculated the time difference in your head before you realized it. You and Dean somehow jumped thirty-five years into the past.

“Hey, Winchester!” A voice called out, sending Dean and the man sitting down to turn around in his seat, you looked over your shoulder to see what was going on. An older man approached the counter, but he wasn’t going to Dean, he was going to the person sitting next to him. “Son of a bitch! I knew I’d find you and Y/L/N attached at the hip. How you doin’, corporal?” 

You mouth nearly dropped to the floor when you realized what was going on. You quickly grabbed your cup of coffee and pressed it to your lips, Dean watched the sight unfold. “Hey, Mr. D.” It was someone with the last name of Winchester who responded with a smile.

“I heard you were back.” The new stranger said.

“Yeah,” The Winchester nodded his head. “A little while now.”

“It’s good to have you home, John. Damn good.” He said. Your eyes lingering over to the man you were sitting across from. John…John Winchester, the man you’d only known as Sam and Dean Winchester’s father. But things only seemed to have gotten stranger when the man walked over to the couple and greeted them with joy. He walked up to the woman and gave her a tight hug, all before he pulled away and glanced down at her stomach. “Ella, look at you. You’re growing more beautiful each day I see you! Has Andrew been treating you all right?”

“Only the best. Of course, with John back in town, it’s hard to keep these two seperate for more than a few days.” Ella said. She placed one hand on her stomach, your eyes lingered in complete and utter confusion. Your parents were standing right across from you. And if you had done the calculations right in your head, your mother had just turned twenty one years old. It was a year after her and Andrew gotten married. Ella didn’t seem to notice you or Dean staring at the sight with such strange faces. She gave John a playful wink. “But I’m happy he’s back in town. It’s only gonna be a few months before the baby’s born.”

“Yes. It’s gonna be a real treat to have some young blood around here. You two lovebirds stay out of trouble, ya hear me?” The older man gave the couple a smirk from the jab as he patted John on the shoulder. “And say hello to your old man for me.”

“You got it, Mr. D.” John said, he gave the man a smile before turned back around in his seat to continue the conversation with the couple. But it seemed he could feel Dean staring at him, you were nothing more than taken over with uncomfortable confusion, you sat in silence and sipped on your coffee. “Do we know each other?”

Dean nervously swallowed, “I guess not.”

He quickly looked around from the younger man as he followed behind in your directions, he grabbed the neglected coffee cup and brought it to his lips. The both of you watched from the corner of your eye as John gave another glance before his attention lingered over to your parents. You saw the young Ella give her husband a kiss on the lips before she mumbled a goodbye, she grabbed a plastic bag filled with food before she went off, and straight out the door. You couldn’t help yourself but grip the ceramic cup tighter when you realized what was going to happen in the next upcoming amount of years. A handful of miscarriages until a secret trick allowed her to finally give birth to a healthy baby girl. You glanced over to see that John was staring at you and Dean for a moment, his facial expressions seemed to have been uneasy.

“Let’s shake a leg, John.” Andrew speaks up, breaking the concentration from the two men. He nodded his head to the door, “Someone’s gonna be pissed if you show up empty handed.”

John nods his head and gets up from his chair to follow behind his friend. Andrew is the first one out the door with the other following behind. You see that John takes a moment to look at Dean, it almost makes you think for a moment he knows that the man in his son. But after a second of staring, the door opens wider before John slips out of sight and begins following behind your father. You can’t help yourself but look over at Dean, wondering what the hell just happened.

\+ + +

They didn’t spot you in the sea of people that crowded the busy streets. You and Dean shadowed a man who probably didn’t even think about having kids right now. Everything that was happening, seeing your parents and the younger version of the brothers’ father, it was throwing through you a loop right now. You glanced away from the sight in front of you as you looked at Dean, who had been nothing but silent since leaving the diner. His attention seemed so adamant on his father, it seemed he didn’t realize you were staring at him. The question kept lingering on each of your minds. What the hell was going on? And why were you sent back here—if everything that you were seeing was true. You’d been seeing a lot of things these past few days. Who was to tell this had been some neat little trick pulled by Castiel for kicks. For all you could tell, you might still be at home, passed out on your bed, and this was some nightmare running its course.

You still tracked on with Dean, the both of you walked in sync down the street as John took a turn around the corner. You began walking a bit faster when you noticed the man disappeared from your sights again. But someone else caught your focus, you stopped in your tracks and let out a sharp gasp from whom you saw. Castiel was standing there in the middle of broad daylight, Dean flinched after he accidentally jumped from the unexpected visit from the angel again.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” You hissed, your voice dropping to a whisper when you began to worry about lingering eyes. You had a strange fear of someone overhearing this conversation and somehow altering the future. Huffing out a breath, you glanced over at Castiel, and with the question burning at the tip of your tongue, you asked him. “What is this?”

“What does it look like, Y/N?” Castiel fought your question with another.

“Is it real?”

“Very.”

You nervously swallowed from the information as you began glancing around the town with more inspection. Dean blinked a few times, he tried wrapping his mind around the situation he was currently in. “Okay, so, what,” He managed to get the words out of his mouth, the idea of being in the past had rustled up his thoughts into a panicked state. It was just one thing after another after coming back from Hell. “Angels got their hands on some DeLoreans? How the hell did we get here?”

“Time is fluid, Dean.” Castiel tried explaining the situation to the hunter. He didn’t need a police box or eighties car to jump back in time. “It’s not easy, especially when two people are involved, but we can bend it on occasion.”

“Well, bend it back.” You snapped at the angel with a nervous tone, it wasn’t helping when your voice jumped higher to show off how this new situation was making you feel. “Or tell us what the hell we’re doing here.”

“I told you two.” Castiel said, using the excuse that was beginning to grow more unsettling on your nerves. “You need to stop it.”

“Stop what? Huh? Wait, is there something nasty after my dad?” Dean tried fishing for any answers when he questioned the Angel. But it didn’t get him far when the sound of tires squealing on the blacktop and a horn blaring caught Dean off guard, you both quickly looked over your shoulders to see what the commotion was about, fearful it might have been someone you’ve been following. When you saw that it was nothing, you looked over to face Castiel, but he was nowhere in sight. Dean grumbled in frustration. “Come on. What, are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?!”

\+ + +

John Winchester was about to make the worst decision of his life. The young man chatted with a salesman as they negotiated with lowering down the price of a beige and white colored 1964 Volkswagen Bus Mary had been begging for him to at least look at, and if she wasn’t the absolute love of his life, there would be no way he would have been talked into buying this car. But the engine seemed to have been in good enough condition and the upholstery was in good shape. Yet he knew how car salesmen were, he sweet talked the man into lowering the price down a few hundred bucks more before they settled on the deal. John shook hands with the salesman and grinned, happy for this day to keep going up. Mary was going to be over the moon when she saw this baby roll up. And what he had hidden in his sock drawer was going to make her even more happier. John placed his hands on his hips and let out a content sigh, he walked forward and inspected the front of the van with a bit more of closer inspection.

“That’s not the one you want.”

The voice coming from behind him made John look over his shoulder to see who it was, all though it was male, he suspected for a moment Andrew had come back to help change his mind. The older man hadn’t thought this was a perfect choice, this wasn’t something a feisty and powerful Mary should settle for. But the person that was about to change his mind wasn’t his friend. John was taken back when he saw you and Dean leaning against another special car, a black Chevy Impala, in mint conditions with added memories that would be made in the decades to come. But the man didn’t know that. All he saw was two strangers that were making his nerves jump on edge when he saw them unexpectedly for the second time today again.

“You two following me?“ He questioned the both of you with a suspicious tone.

"No, no. We were just passing by.” You quickly explained the situation before things could become escalated. You gave the man a smile, suddenly feeling strange as you talked to someone who you only knew in your mind as stressed and rugged face, someone who you saw as a fatherly figure yourself. It was strange to see him so young and different. You had to admit he was quite handsome, you knew where the brothers had gotten their good looks. “I never got to thank you for the cup of coffee this morning. We were a little out of it.”

Jon cracked a smile, “More than a little.”

“Let me repay the favor.” Dean said. He knocked a few times on the hood, grabbing the man’s attention, you could see Jong become interested when he began inspecting the exterior of the car. “This is the car you want.”

“Oh, yeah?” John asked with curiosity. “You know something about cars?”

“Yeah. Yeah, my dad taught me everything I knew.” Dean admitted with a shy smile. His lips began stretching into a farther smile when he looked over at the man, John seemed to have been interested with learning more. Dean didn’t waste anytime and cracked open the hood to give both men a chance to inspect the engine each of them knew was going to last. “And this—this is a great car. 327 four-barrel, 275 horsepower. A little TLC, this thing is cherry.”

John was getting himself sucked into getting this car with each passing detail, his eyes were lingering upward to the van again, but it was the Impala that really was calling his attention. "You know, you’re right.”

You nodded your head to the van, “What were you buying that thing for?”

“I kind of promised someone I would.” John admitted to the both of you.

“Over a ‘67 Chevy?” Dean laughed, wondering who the hell would want a van like that. The thought of spending years on the road with Sam as kids in that car crossed his mind. “I mean, come on, this is a car of a lifetime. Trust me, this thing will still be badass when its forty.”

The man contemplated for the longest moment of time if he wanted to listen to a couple of strangers and choose another car his girlfriend might not even like. But it was a risk he was willing to take. He stood up and looked over at Dean, he stretched out his arm to shake hands with the man. “John Winchester.” He greeted. You watched as the two quickly shook hands. “And thanks.”

“Dean Van Halen. And this is my girlfriend, Y/N Plath.” The man introduced himself with the first cover he could even think of. You might have been thrown off for a moment, but you didn’t seem to show when you stretched out and shook hands with the man who was his father, yet, if his calculations were correct, both of you were almost a decade older than man. Dean still had yet to fully wrap his mind with what was going on right now. “Thanks.”

John gave both of you a smile before he began circling around the car, wanting to inspect more of the car he was about to buy. Now this was something the man could see himself in. Your lips stretched into a faint smile from the thought of him, as his younger self, riding around town with Mary and soon enough, his two kids. But you had a feeling Castiel didn’t send you all the way back in time to help pick out a car.

“Dean and I were in pretty rough shape, huh?” You sparked a conversation with the man when you heard the trunk shut. John glanced at you, the amused look seemed to have been the perfect answer for you to continue on. It was the seventies, might as roll with the times. “I’ve been hung over, but, uh, I was getting chills in that diner. You didn’t feel any of those cold spots, did you?”

“Nope.” John said, that crossed off spirits from the list.

“I swore I smelled something weird, too, you know? Like rotten eggs. You didn’t happen to smell any sulfur, by chance?” Dean asked the man, wondering if demons were lurking around here. But John shook his head. Now he was growing desperate from the next question he asked. “Has there been any cow mutilations?”

“Okay, mister,” John was becoming suspicious of the questions he didn’t know what were for yet. “Stop it.”

“Yeah. If only I knew what to stop.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You jabbed your elbow in his side, making him realize it wasn’t good to make John this suspicious. If it was a demon, spirit, or for whatever reason, a vampire was why you were here, the both of you would figure it out soon enough and be back in the present. He let out a quiet sigh and looked at the young man. “Listen, uh, watch out for yourself, okay?”

John seemed to have been taken back from the unexpected advice, but he nodded his head, only giving you both a worried type of expression. You gave him a small smile before you and Dean began walking away, at least happy to know history was made when had found her rightful owner. It still wasn’t helping to figure out why you were here, and with Castiel nowhere to be found, it looked like you and Dean were out on your own.

\+ + +

You continued to keep yourselves quiet and in the darkness. You watched as John went on through his day as he drove around the Impala. Dean managed to snag a car so you both could continue following behind until you followed the young man back to the diner. The thing about jumping back into time, sure it was strange, and you were worried about screwing up the future, but you were meeting people that were long dead. You leaned against the wall with Dean hovering behind, the both of you gazed at the sight of Mary. She wasn’t Mary Winchester, but Campbell, and boy, was she so young and beautiful. You faintly remembered the woman as a toddler, but seeing her with her future husband, it made everything feel so surreal. It was so sweet to see the two lovers talking and laughing, back to when things were quiet and normal.

“Sammy, wherever you are, Mom is a babe.” Dean couldn’t help but be taken back from the sight, his mother was even more breathtaking in sight from what he faintly remembered from memory and old photos his father rarely kept around. Yet when you looked over your shoulder and cocked up a brow, he realized what he had admitted out loud. “I’m going to Hell. Again.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a quiet laugh before you adverted your attention back to the window, curious to see what else you could learn about the couple. The two talked for a minute or so until Mary excused herself, leaving John alone for a moment. You watched as she disappeared from sight, but with the man being alone, you saw him pull out something from his pocket. But before you could find out what it was, a female voice coming from behind caught you and Dean off guard.

“Why are you following us?”

Looking over your shoulder, your face dropped when you saw that it was Mary, and from the look in her eye, she wasn’t too happy. You barely got a chance to look at Dean before she was showing off skills you never knew the woman had. She grabbed Dean by his jacket and kneed him directly where it would hurt, sending him down so she could have the bigger target out of the way. You quickly came to your senses when you saw her coming for you next, she was tiny, but the both of you were almost equal in strength if you thought about. But she was about to prove herself stronger. You didn’t know what the hell was going on, she was trying to attack, and while you struggled to get out of range, you managed to get the woman pinned down in place.

“You’ve been trailing us since my house.” She said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumbled, pretending to play dumb.

“Oh, really?”

Mary wasn’t amused from the little act. She kicked you directly in the stomach, making you stumble backward from the unexpected action. You didn’t know how the hell she’d gotten these moves. But you quickly blocked a punch when she tried squeezing one in, you took your advantage and grabbed a hold of her wrist again before you pinned it behind her. You didn’t want to do this, but you slammed the woman against the wall, pressing her body against it, you felt her struggle, somehow you’d gotten the advantage for a moment. As you caught your breath, your eyes trailed over to the other arm you had against the wall, your eyebrows furrowed at her charm bracelet, it wasn’t like anyone you’ve seen before. Because it had symbol you’d only seen in books you used for hunting monsters. You stumbled backwards in shock, it seemed you weren’t the only one with this lifestyle in your blood. Mary turned back around when she noticed you weren’t near her anymore, she gave you a look when you were still staring at her.

You pointed at her bracelet, “Are you a hunter?”

\+ + +

Mary Campbell was her name before she married John Winchester, and she was a natural born hunter. You had to admit this knowledge had come as a surprise to you and Dean. But it seemed she didn’t mind to the idea of meeting up again after she said her final goodbyes to her boyfriend. The both of you met back at her house, where she instructed you both to stay hidden, in the darkness, you heard the familiar sounds of the Impala’s engine pulling away, giving you the cue to head out. You walked across the grass to see Mary standing on the grass, she pointed a finger at the both of you when she spoke your names.

“Dean and Y/N, right?” She asked, you nodded your head. Mary glanced away and to her house, a look of uneasiness washed over her facial expressions. “I’m not sure you two should come in.”

“You can trust us.” Dean promised the woman. “I mean, come on, we’re all hunters, right? I mean, we’re–we’re practically family.”

Mary gave him a strange look from what he said, she shook her head and gave the truth. “The thing is, my dad, he’s a little, um…”

“Oh,” Dean jumped onto the idea, “I gotta meet him.”

“You’ve heard of him?” Mary asked with a bit of confusion.

“Clearly, not enough.” You covered for the man. “From what I’ve seen that you could do, I’d loved to meet him and see a real pro.”

Mary shrugged her shoulders at the suggestion, deciding to let you both meet him. You followed behind her as you all walked inside her house. You couldn’t help yourself but take in the sights of everything around you. When were you ever going to get the chance of seeing the woman who had been the mother of your two best friends. You and Dean walked into the living room where you met Samuel Campbell, Mary’s father. He was quite an intimidating man, even as he sat in a chair and read a book, he never took his eyes off the pages when Mary introduced you both.

“So, you two are hunters? Well, tell me something, Mr. Hunter,” Samuel decided to test Dean with a little question that was too easy. “You kill vampires with wooden stakes or silver?”

“Neither. You cut their heads off.” Dean answered. “So, did I pass your test?”

“Yep. Now get out of my house.” Samuel said with a calm tone. He slammed his book shut and dropped it to the end table next to his chair, Mary was taken back, protesting the request. “I don’t trust other hunters. Don’t want their help. Don’t want them around my family.”

“Knock it off, Samuel.” A woman’s voice from the next room caught your attention, you looked over to see Mary’s mother walked into the room. “They’re hunters who passed your little pop quiz, and now I’m inviting them to dinner. You two hungry?”

“Starving.” Dean said, you nodded your head.

“Good. I’m Deanna,” The woman introduced herself with a friendly smile as you shook hands with her first before Dean followed in suit. “You’ve met my husband, Samuel. Now wash up.”

Dean took the information as he looked over at you for a moment, you could see the curiosity light up in his eyes. This was such a strange moment, being in the same room with his mother and grandparents, but it was something you and him were excited to see happen. You were about learn more about a family that had been long dead, maybe for just a moment you could forget about why Castiel sent you here for and learn something about his family.

\+ + +

You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed a home cooked meal. You silently enjoyed the food as a light conversation was carried on between everyone. Deanna was a hunter herself, and while she seemed to have been welcoming to the both of you, her husband only seemed protective and cold. But after time passed, you could see him starting to loosen up a bit as time went on. You wondered if Sam was named after his grandfather. Hell, you wondered what he was doing right now. You began worrying about the thought of him missing his brother as the both of you were in the past, to stop whatever it was. Before the idea could snowball into a bigger problem, your eyes wandered over to Deanna when she struck up a conversation.

“First time in Lawrence, Y/N and Dean?”

“Well, been a while for the both of us.” Dean answered. He swallowed down his food, you nodded your head as you reached out a hand to take a drink. “Things sure have changed…I think.”

Samuel watched his grandson from the other side of the table, “You two working a job?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean simply said.

“What’s that mean?” Samuel questioned the young man.

Dean decided to play along with the man, you glanced over at him as your teeth sank into the food on your fork. He was sure having fun with this. “It means I don’t trust other hunters, Samuel.” You looked up at the women around the table, Deanna only seemed amused from the response as Mary focused on her food, yet the smirk she was growing was hard to keep down. Samuel pretended for a moment to be offended by the answer, but a second later, the faintest smile spread across his lips, happy to see someone could keep up with his stubborn attitude.

“Hey, um,” Mary spoke up to the both of you, curious about something that first caused the first awkward meeting together. “So, why were you following me and John?”

“Mm. I thought something was after your—your boyfriend.” Dean struggled to not say husband, knowing it was going to be another few years until the both of them became official. Mary nodded as she listened. “But, um, we don’t think that anymore.”

“John Winchester mixing it up with spirits.” Deanna commented. “Can you imagine.”

You looked over at Dean from the humor that you detected in her voice. Both of you knew he had face more terrible things in the years to come. You remained silent as you glanced back down to your food and continued to eat. “I saw that, Dad.” Mary said, you glanced up to see what was going on. She was staring at her father with a disapproving look, the man stared at her with a confused expression. “That sour-lemon look.”

“Now, hold on. John’s a really, really nice…” Samuel tried defending himself, but it came off a bit strange when he continued on. You had only known John as a hunter who’d known almost everything about the supernatural world, his journal had helped on many cases after he passed away. But you furrowed your brow from the thought as Samuel continued. “Naive civilian.”

Mary let out a bitter laugh from her father’s words, “So, what, would you rather me be with a guy like this?”

“What?” Dean quickly realized the young woman was pointing a finger at him. “No, no.”

“Mary, of course not.” Samuel tried explaining himself. “It’s just that I—”

“That;s enough, both of you.” Deanna cut off her husband, she gave her family a stern look. “We have company.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment, you could feel the slightest smile spreading across your lips. It was almost bringing you back to the days when you were a teenager, all though it was clear Mary had been raised in the nontraditional form, she was still a young adult. You looked up from your plate to see that Samuel was staring at you, probably from how you were smiling. You cleared your throat and scraped up more food until the knife lingered around for a moment. “So, what about you, Sam?” You curiously asked him. “You working a job?”

Samuel grabbed his cup and shrugged, “Might be.”

Mary rolled her eyes from his response as she glanced over at you to help further explain her father’s answer. “He’s working a job on the Whitshire farm.” She said, Samuel gave his daughter a disapproving look from the knowledge he didn’t want you to know about.

“Whitshire,” You muttered the name, “Why does that name sound familiar to me?”

“It’s been all over the papers—Tom Whitshire. Got tangled up in a combine a few towns over.” Samuel explained. You shrugged your shoulders as you put the fork to your mouth, accidents were going to happen. But it seemed that the man had suspicions. “Except why was he on it in the first place when his crops are all dead?”

“Oh.” You said. As you glanced over at Dean, it seemed both of you were beginning to understand what might be going on. You had crossed it off the list, but this was the first lead you had gotten since coming here. “Demonic omens?”

“That’s what I got to find out.” Samuel said.

“What about the rest of the town? Did you find anything off the web?” Dean asked the man, your eyes widen slightly at the technology reference he made. Everyone looked at him with confusion, you lightly kicked him in the shin before they could start asking their own questions. “I meant of… information that you have assembled?”

“Electrical storms, maybe.” Deanna answered. “The weather service graphs should be here on Friday.”

“By mail?” Dean asked, you rolled your eyes.

“No,” Samuel said with a sarcastic tone. “We hired a jetliner to fly them to us overnight.”

Dean was silent for a few moments, it took him a second before the joke settled in. He began to chuckle, playing along as you quietly laughed yourself before looking back at Samuel. “You know, it sounds to me like we might be hunting the same thing.” You said, suggesting a plan of action, wondering if this was the reason why you were here in the first place. Samuel leaned forward, seeming interested in what you had to say. “You know, if we go in there in numbers, we could take care of this nice and quick.”

You gave him a small smile form the suggestion, but you could feel it dropping to a sour expression from his answer. He wasn’t exactly playing nice. “What part of ‘we work alone’ do you not understand, sweetheart?” Samuel asked. You clenched your jaw and forced yourself not to make a snarky remark. You just sat there and gave him another smile, little did he know you were already planning out of how to steal this hunt from him and get the hell home.

\+ + +

The next morning you and Dean were off to the Whitshire residence to figure out what was going on. The best cover, no matter the time period, was to present yourselves as people of the Catholic church. Dean managed to find a priest outfit as you acted a civilian to offer comfort in this time of grief. Beth Whitshire was the widow you’d been speaking to for the past hour or so about what happened to her husband. She seemed more taken back from the unexpected death herself, not sure how to explain, it just happened. But your attention was brought to the front door when you heard footsteps approaching. Dean opened up the door before the stranger could knock and acknowledge their presence, your lips stretched into a smirk when you saw Samuel standing on the porch, his expressions dropped into surprise when he saw you and Dean. It seemed he tried posing as a priest himself with an added bonus of a desert.

“Father.” Samuel greeted the young man as his eyes drifted over to you, he only gave you a nod before smiling. “I see you both beat me here.”

“The Lord is funny that way.” Dean said, making a small joke before joining the older man on the porch so he could introduce the widow to the priest. “Beth Whitshire, this is my associate, or senior senior priest, Father Cheney.”

Samuel wasn’t exactly pleased from what had Dean said, but he kept up the act. He gave the woman the dish and a sympathetic smile. “Please accept our deepest condolences on behalf of the count diocese.”

“Mrs. Whitshire was just telling us all about Tom and how normal ordinary things were on the day of his death.” You explained to Samuel, you wrapped your fingers together and placed them against your stomach. He nodded his head and looked at the woman, not realizing he was about to put his foot in his mouth.

“So you didn’t notice anything unusual, ma’am?”

“You mean like my husband’s guts fertilizing the back forty?”

Samuel’s face dropped slightly from the question that was thrown back at him. The expression on his face made it known he wasn’t expecting that response. You couldn’t help yourself but smirk at the petty revenge you’d gotten on him before composing yourself. You glanced around the land to see that Mary was down the hill, talking to Beth’s son, you decided it might be best to talk to everyone. You looked back over at Samuel as Dean patted the man on the shoulder. You gave the woman a warm smile before you excused yourselves, leaving Samuel in the awkward tension with the woman.

You and Dean walked down the pathway to the spot in the large acres of land where Mary was talking to the young man. He seemed more overcome with guilt than grief, he leaned himself against a large oak tree and stared at the spot on the grass. You glanced over at Mary, wondering what she learned from the young man. “Charlie,” She looked over at him and gave him a reassuring smile, “Would you like to tell the father and Y/N here what you just told me?”

Charlie seemed hesitant to share the information. You gave him a small smile when he glanced at you and Dean for a moment. When he felt comfortable enough, he began speaking. “Dad drank sometimes.” He explained about his abusive father. “Sometimes he got rough with Mom.”

“And that’s when the strange came?” Mary asked.

“I just thought he was some bible-thumper, like you all.” Charlie said. “He showed up about a week ago.”

“Saying what?” You questioned him, wanting this to continue.

“Did I want the beatings to stop? I just thought he was crazy. I didn’t think—and the next thing I know, Dad’s dead.” Charlie explained everything else that followed. You were silent from his words as you began thinking about what was going on. It seemed the boy was growing nervous from the lack of response from everyone. “Am I going to jail?”

“You didn’t do this, Charlie.” Mary said, reassuring the young man.

“Did the stranger want something in return?” Dean asked.

Charlie shook his head, “He didn’t want anything.”

“Come on, Chuck.” Dean said, fishing for whatever details the man wasn’t giving him. “He wasn’t just handing out freebies, now, was he?”

“He did say something about coming a-calling.” Charlie admitted. “Ten years from now and maybe he’d want something then.”

You furrowed your brow, “Something like what?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Charlie admitted with a nervous tone. “Look, I told you he was nuts.”

You glanced over at Mary when she gave you both a look before nodding her head to a secluded spot where you all could talk in silence for a moment. You and Dean walked as she trailed behind, leaving Charlie alone for a moment. You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a quiet sigh, wondering why you were sent all the way here to stop some demon that was making house calls. There had to be something more here. “What do you think?” Mary asked

“I think he just pimped his soul to a demon,” Dean suggested. “And he doesn’t even know it.”

Mary’s expression stretched into a surprised look from hearing the possible lead. You walked forward to the young man and decided to take a shot at something, hopeful this demon liked only traveling in one meatsuit. “Charlie, do you remember what the stranger looked like?”

“Yeah, uh, he’s about five-ten, white. He was kind of normal looking, really. But there was one thing.“ Charlie explained. You were doubtful for a moment that this was going to be hard, but it seemed he remembered one small detail that was common, but it might help figure out what kind of demon you were dealing with. "It’s just, the light hit his eyes in a weird way, and…for a moment, I could have sworn—”

“What, they were black?” You asked him. “Or red, maybe?”

“No. They were yellow.” Charlie said, correcting you. “A pale yellow.”

Your mouth parted open slightly from the answer you’d gotten, there was only one demon you knew of that had that eye color—Azazel. The demon who had ruined your life, the one who put demon blood in your body. Now you were slowly starting to understand what was going on, and why you were brought back here. You glanced over at Dean, the both of you shared the same expression of worry about dealing with an old enemy.

\+ + +

“What do you say we just slow down and talk this thing through?”

You glanced up for a moment when you heard the sound of something heavy hitting the table, you nervously shifted from who you saw again, your mother. She was a few months pregnant with her first child as she continued eating part of the fruit salad Deanna was making in the kitchen. Mary decided to call a fellow hunter over to some help, she had explained about she was a close friend of hers, and even though she’d retired from hunting after moving to Kansas, she could have been helpful about finding out what this demon was. Ella had at least a half dozen notebooks that were hidden in her closet about demons. She tracked down similar cases and weather patterns until the case went cold. But now the woman was eager to jump back onto the case one more time.

Your eyes lingered at the journal, your mother’s journal you ripped up after learning about her deal. She kept up with the entries after quitting hunting, the reason because your grandparents had faced a terrible fate, but a hunting accident didn’t kill them. It was because her mother passed away to cancer, her father soon followed after the grief of his wife lead him to drinking away his problems. But the Ella standing in front of you didn’t seem to show her hatred of the lifestyle. Her focus was sharp and willing to help hunt down this monster, still not knowing how she desperately longed to have a child. You nervously swallowed as you glanced down at her pregnant belly. Not until she lost every unborn child she hoped to have.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dean said, breaking your concentration away from Ella.

“Except you’re saying there’s a demon, the one I’ve been tracking for years,” Ella seemed to have shared the same distance with Samuel, she glanced at Dean from what he was saying. “And none of us has ever heard of a demon with Yellow Eyes.”

“Yeah, well, we have.” Dean said. He looked at Samuel for a moment, but his eyes shifted over to Ella, his gaze softening from what he said next. “This thing killed our families.”

“Just calm down, son.” Samuel said. “Let’s just see what Ella has to say.”

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re in danger. We are all in danger.” You said, your eyes looking at everyone. Who knew when your mother made the deal, it could have been eight years from now. Or the very next day. “In fact, you need to get yourself someplace safe.”

“No.” Ella quickly responded. “Not until we know what we’re dealing with here.”

“Sam and Ella are right, Y/N—it could be a demon,” Deanna came back into the dining room with a fruit salad. You let out a breath and dropped your gaze to the map, you weren’t listening to them anymore. “It could be a shapeshifter any number of things.”

“I know what this thing is! And I’m gonna kill it.” Dean said. Ella didn’t seem to like the fact that the man raised her voice at her, she raised her brow and crossed her arms over her chest. He wasn’t fazed from the look he’d seen, you’d given it to him all the time. Right now he wasn’t in the mood to play nice. “That’s all the talking I need to do.”

“Okay. You’re going to kill a demon, hotshot?” Ella questioned the man. “How?”

“There’s a hunter named Daniel Elkins.” Dean said. He pointed a finger on the map, everyone glanced down to see where he pointed at. “He lives in Colorado. He has Colt’s gun.”

“Right. I heard about the colt. A gun that can kill any monster, including a demon.” Ella said. She seemed more amused from the suggestion as she let out a chuckle. “My dad used to tell it to me as a bedtime story to help me sleep. It would be really handy—if such thing existed.”

“Well, it’s real.” You said, she raised her brow.

Everyone looked at each other, wondering if you could be trusted or not. There was a lot of talk, but it seemed they were going on a leap of faith. “All right, say that it is.” Samuel said, speaking up. “You got some kind of crystal ball telling us where this demon’s gonna be?”

“Yeah, maybe I do.” Dean muttered. He walked over to his jacket that was lying across a chair, he fished out his father’s journal and laid it on the table. Samuel walked forward to see what the young man was trying to show them. “It’s a list. My dad wrote down anyone he thought ever came in contact with the Yellow-eyed demon—who, where, when.”

Ella wandered over and glanced down at the pages, Dean quickly flipped the page from the information about her. “Why?” She asked the man, seeming curious to know more.

“Because the more he could learn about the son of a bitch, the more he could figure out why it killed my mom.” Dean explained as he continued searching through the book until he found exactly what he wanted. “Look. Whitshire farm. I told you that name sounded familiar.”

“Whitshire farm that was two days ago.” Samuel muttered with confusion. “How the hell is that on your dad’s list?”

You weren’t expecting that question, you glanced over at Dean. He was better than anyone you knew when it came to thinking underneath pressure, it seemed he pulled out that sounded a bit crazy, but it didn’t stray too far from the family. “Uh, my dad could see the future.” He explained to everyone. Samuel seemed inconvenienced from the answer, but Ella was intrigued. The younger man shifted his attention to the journal when he found something useful. “Look at this. Says he’s gonna hit here tomorrow night.”

“Liddy Walsh?” Samuel asked, he read the name off the list.

“Haileyville.” You muttered the town name as you found it on the map. “That’s close.”

“Yeah, it’s about three miles, but…” Samuel trailed off for a moment, his eyes lingering away from the journal as he glanced at his wife and Ella to see how they were handling the new and slightly strange information. You didn’t waste a second to try and defend yourself, knowing how crazy this sounded. “You both seem like really nice kids, but yeah, you’re crazy. Ella’s been hunting this thing for years. What makes you so sure this is gonna work?”

“Believe us or don’t. I really could care less anymore.” Dean defended the both of you when he could feel the suspicious stares coming from everyone else. “I know where this bastard is gonna be. And I’m gonna stop it, once and for all.”

Silence followed after that response nobody seemed to have been expecting. Dean grabbed his journal and jacket from the table, he gave everyone else a look before he walked off, knowing it was time for the both of you to leave. You couldn’t help yourself but give one more close inspection of your mother before walking away. She looked so young and happy, you almost wondered if everything was going to still play out the same. You could still be born and she would die after ten years. Sounded cruel, but you had a chance to live a life with her, you wanted to see what it was like to have a life with your father a normal, happy with him. You almost could settle down with the thought of living in your childhood home with your father. Mary and John would still be alive, the brothers might be normal. You could live your life as always, and slowly fall in love with Dean the right way—the way the both of you deserved.

You stopped at the front door when you noticed Dean’s lingering stare at the hallway, you heard music coming from the living room. Mary had been hiding in there since arriving back. Samuel had ordered her to stay back when the matter seemed to have gotten heavy. You could tell he was dying to just have a moment alone with her. You weren’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers. Nodding your head to the hallway, you gave him a warm smile. Dean barley could give you a fraction of a smile before he became nervous at the thought of talking to his mother one more time. He let out a quiet breath before he began walking forward, you watched as he stood in the doorway for a moment before disappearing in sight.

It was a few moments of waiting around for him before curiosity gotten the best of you. You wandered forward to the living room and pressed your backside against the wall, eavesdropping on the conversation. It continued on for a moment before you heard Dean speak up, getting to what he’d longed to know. “Can I ask you a question? What’s he like—John?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“Um, I don’t know.” Mary seemed thrown off from the question, she let out a laugh before going into further details about her boyfriend. “He’s sweet, kind. Even after the war, after everything, he still believes in 'happily ever after,’ you know? He’s everything a hunter isn’t. No offense.”

“No,” Dean quickly said. “None taken.”

“Can I tell you something? He’s gonna ask me to marry him. Tomorrow, I think. Oh, Dad’s gonna explode. But I don’t care. I’ll run away if I have to. I just..I love John.” Mary admitted, you could feel your lips stretching into a grin from what you heard. The happiness that dripped from her voice and how she laughed with joy. She fell silent for a moment after what she said, you heard her speak more quietly from what she was about to say next. “I want to get out. This job, this life. I hate it. I want a family. I want to be safe.” What she was about to say next felt like someone was squeezing your heart. Oh, if she only knew. “You know, the worst thing I can think of…the very worst thing…is for my children to be raised into this, like I was. Well, I won’t let it happen.”

You bit your bottom lip from what she had admitted. She was the reason why John started hunting in the first place, why her sons were raised as hunters. It only furthered your desire to kill Yellow Eyes. Dean was silent for a moment, you couldn’t see him try and compose himself from what he heard before he spoke again. “Hey, Mary. Can I tell you something? Even if this sounds really weird, will you promise me that you will remember?” Dean asked the young woman, she gave him a funny face, but she agreed. It was a moment of silence before you heard him speak. You could hear his voice breaking when he tried to warn his mother for the danger that might still happen if you two weren’t careful enough. “On November 2nd, 1983…don’t get out of bed. No matter what you hear or what you see, promise me you won’t get out of bed.”

Mary was silent for a long moment, the words were still processing inside of her. But after a pause, she faintly agreed. Dean barely made a smile before he made himself walk out the living room and to the front door, he went right passed you. You followed behind and out to the car, both of you were in silence as you watched him struggled to get the keys out from his jacket. You knew what he did was hard enough. And before he could stop you, you jumped to your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling the man into a tight hug. You waited for him to push you away and say something about hitting the ground. But he never did. He pulled you closer and buried his head into the crook of your neck, his few tears that stained your skin.

\+ + +

You were quietly sleeping in the passenger side, not knowing of the lingering eyes in the seat next to you that watched you breathe in rhythm. The drive to Colorado was going to take about eight hours, but Dean couldn’t help himself but get caught up in thought after realizing what was about to happen. Yellow Eyes was always a pain in the ass. The demon was the reason why everyone he loved was dead. But his eyes lingered over to you again, he was also the reason why you were alive. If Dean killed the demon, he wondered if he would screw up enough of the future so he didn’t have you. But if he did, that meant his family could grow up happy, his mother could be alive. Dean let out a heavy sigh as he tried concentrating on the road again. One step at a time, he thought to himself.

Dean glanced up in the rearview mirror to caught sight of the road behind him. When he noticed a new passenger just sitting in the backseat, he let out a gasp of surprise. Castiel sat in the back after arriving without a warning. The hunter composed himself before trying to start a casual conversation. “So, what, God’s my co-pilot? Is that it?” He asked the angel. Castiel didn’t say anything, he stared at the man when both made eye contact for a moment. “Oh, you’re a regular Chatty Cathy. Tell me something—Sam would have wanted in on this. Why not bring him back?”

“You had to do this alone, Dean.” Castiel said. “Y/N was for added precaution.”

“And you don’t care that he’s tearing up the future looking for me right now?” Dean asked.

“Sam’s not looking for you.” Castiel gave the man an unexpected answer.

Dean was thrown off for a moment, not sure if he should trust the angel from what he heard. It crossed his mind for a moment to say he was lying, but another question captured his attention. “All right, if I do this, then the family curse breaks, right? Mom and Dad live happily ever after, Sam and I grow up playing little league and chasing tail? What about Y/N?” Dean asked the dreaded question, his eyes lingered over to you again for a moment. “Can she still live?”

“Perhaps if you do this, I might be able to figure something out.” Castiel said, the hunter let out a sigh of relief from hearing the news. But there would be dire consequences if Dean went through with this. “But you realize if you do alter the future, your father, you, Sam, you’ll never become hunters. And all those people you saved, they’ll die.”

“I realize.” Dean admitted, his tone was quiet.

“And you don’t care?” Castiel asked.

“Oh, I care. I care a lot.” Dean admitted. He looked over at the angel, wanting to make that point clear enough. He was sent back here because of Castiel. And he was going to do what needed to have been done. “But these are my parents. I’m not gonna let them die again. I can’t. Not if I can stop it.” As he glanced back over at Castiel, he was surprised to see that he was gone, leaving the man alone. He let out a quiet sigh before averting his attention back to the road again.

\+ + +

Seven hours later and this was the moment of truth. You’d only been in Daniel Elkin’s home once, after he was attacked by a group of vampires you read in the paper, leading John out from hiding again. You only found the empty case after you searched through his house, the vampires stole it, but it seemed in its rightful place when Dean cracked the safe’s lock. You watched as the iron door slowly creaked open, among the pile of important documents laid the gun. Getting it before had been a pain the ass. You kept it for a while before you lost it again. You almost thought it was going to be easy when Dean reached a hand inside to grab the colt. He inspected the old weapon he used a few times, everything seemed to have been the way both of you remembered. But it seemed your good luck was crushed when you heard the sound of a shotgun cocking in.

“Hold it right there, friend. Drop the gun.” A voice warned the young man. “Be on your way.”

You cautiously looked over your shoulder to see that Daniel had a shotgun pointed at Dean’s backside, his finger was on the trigger. The both of you slowly pushed yourselves to your feet, and as Dean reached out arm to put down the colt, he quickly jumped to his feet and pointed the barrel directly at the man. "Can’t do it, Daniel.” He said.

“Who the hell are you?” Daniel questioned the both of you.

“A hunter.” You answered for him. “Just like yourself.”

“‘Thief’ is more like it.” He corrected you.

“We just need it for a few days.” Dean said, trying to explain the situation.

Daniel wouldn’t crack, “Not happening, mister.”

“Look, I have a chance to save my family’s lives. My family. But I need this gun to do it. So, if you want to stop me, kill me.” Dean said. He was testing his limits by cocking the safety back and threw his hands up in defensive. You gave him a look from what he was doing, but Dean gave you a reassuring nod, you followed in his lead as you began walking to the door, your eyes never left Daniel as he kept the gun on the both of you. The other hunter was quiet for a moment as he stared at the two of you, but you could feel yourself letting out a sigh of relief when he lowered the gun. “There’s some hunters in Lawrence—the Campbells.”

“Never heard of them.”

“That’s where she’ll be.”

Daniel was silent for a moment before he was nodding his head in approval, his lips stretching into a faint smile. You mumbled a thank you before you followed behind Dean out the door to make another long trip back home. If you calculated this just right, Yellow Eyes was going to be at the Walshes, and that’s where he was going to die, ending the nightmare before it could begin.

\+ + +

Time always hadn’t been your friend. Your fingers barely could keep themselves together as you watched the scenery passed by. You thought it was going to be a waiting game of sitting outside the residence and waiting until Yellow Eyes made his move. When Dean pulled up to the house, you noticed right off that something was wrong. Samuel’s truck was pulled into the driveway. You and Dean didn’t waste anytime to see what was going on, you pushed yourself out of the car and rushed inside to see that a fight had broken out. Libby was sitting on the couch scared out of her mind from what was happening. Samuel was against the wall, he tried his hardest to take down the demon, but his shotgun was across the floor. A fight had broken out from how you saw the entire place. But your attention was kept on the man that held Mary in a chokehold, you could feel your blood boiling when you saw him again. Yellow Eyes had his filthy hands on her.

“You let her go!” Dean warned the demon, the colt directed at the man.

Yellow Eyes stared at the weapon, “Where’d you get that gun?”

Dean wasn’t about to answer that. He pushed his thumb against the safety, locking the gun into place, the small window of finishing this mess was slowly closing in. The demon seemed amused from what Dean was trying to do, he let out a small chuckle before pulling a trick of his own. Before he could get shot, you watched in frustration as the demon escaped his host, the fog of black smoke drifted through the vent, vanishing in sight as the dead body of the man he was possessing dropped to the ground. Mary was safe for now, but you couldn’t help yourself but let the frustration take its course. You let the demon slip through your fingers again.

You reassured yourself that he was still out there, you could get him before it was too late. Mary seemed shaken up from the events, you and Dean assured her outside to figure out what happened in there before you came. She stood outside on the sidewalk with her arms crossed over her chest. Even though the interaction with the demon was little, whatever he said to her made her feel uneasy from the way she looked.

“Mary, what else did he say to you?” You asked, hopeful that there was more.

“I told you—just that he liked me.” Mary explained. You let out a quiet sigh from the information that wasn’t exactly helpful. She looked down at the ground for a moment, but as words settled in her mind, her eyes quickly drifted up to you and Dean, the fear was easy to detect in her eyes. “What did he mean by that?”

“Liddy’s a strong kid. She’ll be fine.” Samuel walked out from the house and headed forward to the rest of you. He walked over to his daughter and stood close to her. “Are you okay?”

“No, Dad. I’m pretty far from okay.” She admitted with a sharp tone. “Can we go?”

Mary stormed off to the trunk and slid herself into the passenger side, she slammed the door shut before crossing her arms over her chest and stared at the sight in front of her. Samuel let out a sigh from his daughter’s actions, his attention lingered over at Dean. “Nice job in there.” He said. But Dean could only focus on the negative, hissing out how he missed the shot, the one he had been thinking nonstop about. “Take a compliment, son. I’m saying I was wrong about you.”

“We have to talk alone.” Dean said.

He glanced at Mary before he stormed off to the car, knowing things were about to get tough. You tried your hardest to reassure Dean that you both were going to get this demon. But you could see the fear in his eyes, wondering why his mother got sucked into this mess in the first place.

\+ + +

You sat at the dining room table with Samuel across from you, your fingers were nervously laced together as you watched Dean peek out the window, trying to keep an eye out for the demon that lingered around. Samuel wasn’t sure what was going on from how the both of you were acting. But there was no more sugar coating the situation anymore, you knew the truth needed to come out before it was too late. “We have to kill this thing now.” Dean said. He dropped his hand away from the curtain as he glanced over at Samuel from what he was about to say next. “Or Mary dies.”

“What?” Samuel questioned with a protective tone. “How do you know that?”

“We just do, okay?” Dean said. He began pacing around the room with the journal open in his hands, his eyes wandering down the page for another clue to find out where the demon could strike next if he didn’t come tonight. Samuel asked when his daughter was going to die, and sparing details wasn’t going to help, so more of the truth had to come out. “Well, maybe today, probably years from now, but it’s happening—trust me.”

“So, what,” Samuel tried wrapping his mind around this information that was jumping farther into dangerous territories. “Are you some kind of psychic now, too?”

You and Dean glanced over at one another, not sure if you should speak about everything. But what did you have to lose? You bit your bottom lip as you nodded your head. There’s not that much damage you could do if Yellow Eyes dies. “No.” Dean said. You watched as he shut the journal and sat down in the free seat between you and Samuel, he let out a breath, knowing this is where things were about to get strange. “All right, listen to me. Now, this is gonna sound a little…actually, it’s gonna sound, massively, massively crazy.”

Samuel nodded his head, “Okay.”

“Mary is my mother.” Dean said, coming out right with the truth. “And Y/N is Ella’s daughter.”

“Excuse me?” Samuel asked, his face scrunched up slightly.

“And I am your grandson.” Dean explained again. Samuel looked at the younger man like he’d grown a second head. "And I know what the hell I’m talking about.“

“No. You’re crazy.” Samuel muttered. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“His real name is Dean Winchester, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. His parents are Mary and John Winchester. Mine are Ella and Andrew Y/L/N.” You couldn’t help yourself but continue on with the truth, ignoring the stares of confusion he was giving you. But for different reasons. Right now, this is about Mary. We think that this, what happened tonight, I think is the moment that he caught her scent.“

“Now if we don’t catch this thing now and kill it and it gets away, then Mary dies. So we’re asking you, please.” Dean tried pleading with the man to give him to crack. The gruesome details that Samuel heard a few times over were beginning to settle in his mind, but he wasn’t going to let his wall just crack. He sat there with the same expression on his face, pretending not to believe anything. "How do I know about the colt, huh? How did I know about the yellow-eyed demon or where it could be? We’re not making this up, Samuel.”

“Every bone in my body is aching to put you six feet under.” Samuel passively threatened the both of you. You scoffed at the thought as you leaned back in your seat, he’d be dead before his body hit the ground if the old man wouldn’t listen. But it seemed his mind was beginning to change from what he said next. “There’s something about you two—I can’t shake it. Now, I may be crazier than you, son, but I believe you.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief when he heard those words, “Thank you.”

“How do we find this bastard?” Samuel asked.

“Right here,” Dean said, his hand smacked against the journal. “The list.”

“And with the colt?” Samuel wondered. He seemed to be curious after hearing all of this talk about this special weapon. Dean opened up the journal before slipping a hand inside his jacket, pulling out the colt that had been a journey to grab. He placed it down on the table in front of him before glancing back down at the pages. Samuel was quiet for a few moments, his attention lingered on the gun for a long moment, your eyes jumped up at him from what he said next. “Let me see it.”

You furrowed your brow as Dean glanced at the weapon for a moment. You didn’t have a good feeling about letting the colt out your hands too quickly. And it seemed Dean to have shared the same feeling when he pushed the gun away, closer to you. “Sorry. I don’t let anybody hold it.” He said. Samuel tried using the excuse of being his grandfather. “Nothing personal.”

“Sure it is.” Samuel muttered. “Especially when it’s me you’re trying to kill.”

He caught you off guard from what he said. You could feel your body tensing up in anger when you saw Samuel’s eyes turn into the pale shade of yellow, the bastard was possessed. Dean tried his very hardest to grab the colt before the demon could make a move, but Yellow Eyes was faster. He waved an arm around in the air, the weapon dropped to the floor as Dean went flying across the room in the chair. You somehow managed to jump out of your chair and touch the colt, but you weren’t granted any luck to try and save the day. You were roughly thrown against the wall, an invisible presence pinned you into place. The demon leaned back in his seat from the new guests he wasn’t expecting to see. You nervously swallowed when you saw his gaze lingered over to you. No matter what, Yellow Eyes brought the worst out in you.

“Future girl, huh? I see you brought a dimwit sidekick, too.“ Yellow Eyes said, his eyes drifted over to Dean, noticing how the hunter was giving him a deathly glare. The demon pushed himself up to his feet and began walking forward into the living room. "I only know one thing that’s got the juice to swing something like that. You have have friends in high places.” You remained silent as you turned your head, trying to keep yourself when you noticed he was coming closer to you. “So, I kill his mommy and your daddy? That’s why you came all this way to see little ol’ me?”

“Oh, I came here to kill you.” Dean threatened in a low tone.

Yellow Eyes turned his gaze away from you and to the younger Winchester, his eyebrows cocked up. He wandered over to the man until he was standing over him. “Hey. Wait a minute. If that slug marries your mommy, are you—are you one of my psychic kids?” He wondered to himself. The demon leaned down so he was in the hunter’s personal space, your face scrunched up when he started sniffed Dean until he backed away. “No. Not you. Maybe you got a sis. Or a bro. Maybe,”

You could feel your breathing becoming ragged with fear when the demon glanced over at you, the look in his eyes didn’t leave a good feeling in your stomach. Yellow Eyes walked over to you and started getting closer. You closed your eyes and clenched your fists when you felt his breath tickle your skin. You swore he could hear your pounding heartbeat when he let out a chuckle. You slowly opened your lids to see that he was looking at you, his lips now stretching in a grin. “Oh, I knew I could smell it on you. It means part of my plan worked. After all, it’s why I’m here.”

"So that’s what this is about—these deals you’re making.” You muttered, your eyebrows furrowed from what you were beginning to realize. “You don’t want people’s souls.”

“No. I just want their children. I’m here to choose the perfect parents,” Yellow Eyes explained his plan. The demon cranked his head to the side and stare at Dean from what he said next. “Like his mommy.”

“Why her?” Dean questioned the demon. “Why any of them?”

"Because they’re strong. They’re pure. They eat their wheaties. My own little master race. They’re ideal breeders.” The demon furthered along his plan with the explanation. Your face scrunched up in disgust from what he said, Yellow Eyes rolled his eyes. “Oh, get your minds outta the gutter. No one’s breeding with me. Though Mary, man, I’d like to make an exception. So far, she’s my favorite. Maybe I’ll make her that sweet offer I’ve been keeping in my back pocket. All though,” His attention drifted away from Dean as he glanced over at you, his lips stretched into a smirk as he pointed a finger at you. “I’m saving that for your mommy. She’s got something I want back. Let me tell you, Ella’s been a real tough one tracking down. But seeing you—that smell,” You gave him a death glare when he breathed in the scent again. “I know it’s gonna work out just right.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Why make the deals?”

“I need permission. I need to be invited into their houses. I know, I know—the red tape will drive you nuts. But in about ten or so years, it’ll all be worth it. ‘Cause you know what I’m gonna do to your sibling and Y/N here?“ Yellow Eyes directed his attention to Dean for what he was about to admit next. Your fingernails sank deep into your skin from what was being said, it was undeniable Dean was looking straight at you now. "I’m gonna stand over their crib and bleed into their mouth. And when I know Y/N’s nice and strong, you can bet your sweet ass I’m gonna take what’s mine. Because you know what she’s got running through her veins? Demon blood. My blood is better than ovaltine, vitamins, minerals. It makes you big and strong!”

“For what?” Dean asked. “So they can lead your discount demon army? Is that your big plan?”

“Please. My endgame is a hell of a lot bigger than that, kid. I’ve got plans for your little friend here, too. Like I’m gonna tell you.” Yellow Eyes said. “Or those angels sitting on your shoulder. No. I’m gonna cover my tracks good.”

“You can cover whatever the hell you want.” Dean said. “I’m still gonna kill you.“

Yellow Eyes smirked at the thought, "Right. Now, that, I’d like to see.”

“Maybe not today. But you look into my eyes, you son of a bitch.” Dean said, his voice growing more ominous as he continued on the threat. “Cause I’m the one that kills you.”

The demon only seemed amused from the threat when he let out a laugh. He shook his head and smiled down at the man. "So, you’re gonna save everyone. Is that right? Is that it?” Yellow Eyes, your attention drifted to the knife he pulled out from Samuel’s pocket. “Well, I’ll tell you one person that you’re not gonna save. Your grandpappy.”

True to his word, the demon didn’t waste a second until he plunged the knife deep into Samuel’s stomach, hitting the right organs to make him bleed out. But your head quickly went over to the dining room from the search of terror. Deanna was hiding behind the wall, you didn’t know about how the woman lingered in the distance, trying to make her move, but it was seeing her husband get stabbed that was her shock of terror. She saw the colt that laid abandoned on the floor, and without wasting another second, she slid across the wooden floors and tried to grab it. Yellow Eyes wasn’t amused from the woman’s heroic act. Deanna went flying into the air and dropped to the other side of the table. She quickly tried composing herself and began crawling to the kitchen, Yellow Eyes causally began walking after her.

You tried your hardest to somehow get free and help Deanna, but you were only making matters worse. Deanna didn’t make it very far, as she tried crawling for a weapon to defend herself, Yellow Eyes lingered over her for a moment, almost enjoying the sight of seeing the woman squirm. But he had other important matters. So, he bent down and grabbed the woman by her neck, and with one twist, he snapped it before dropping her lifeless body to the ground. The sound of bones cracking caught you off guard, but just seconds later, you were free. Dean raced out his chair and headed for the kitchen, you quickly followed behind to try and catch the demon. But it was too late from what you stumbled upon. Deanna was lying on her backside, dead. You let out a breath when you saw that Yellow Eyes was gone. But as you glanced over at Dean, your face dropped from who you realized was still in danger.

“Mary.” Dean muttered her name. “Mary!”

You and Dean quickly planned to split up and search every room in this house fast as you could. You checked every crack of this place if you could find the young woman. But to your frustrated dismay, she was nowhere to be found.

\+ + +

You wrapped your arms tighter around your body as you sat in the passenger side of the car, Dean should have been focusing on the road. But you could feel his eyes wandering over at you again when his mind was processing the information Yellow Eyes had admitted. You had tried for months to keep it a secret, hopeful that you somehow could have gotten rid of it. Coming back from the dead seemed to have done the trick. But it only lasted so long until Lilith hunted you and forced you to drink her own. You glanced away from the road when you looked over at Dean, his eyes were studying you for a moment, his attention was divided on the road he drove on. “Will you please stop staring at me?” The command quickly made Dean realize what he was doing.

The both of you fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments. You were hopeful that this could have been all avoided, having a conversation about the demon blood and stopping Yellow Eyes before it was too late. Lady luck never was a good friend to you. “Did you know about this, Y/N?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask the dreaded question. You didn’t answer or even gathered the courage to look at him. The silence answered for you. Dean let out a scoff. “I can’t believe it. You did, didn’t you? Were you ever going to tell me? Because this is something that might be of use!”

“I didn’t tell you because of  
! Because you’d look at me like some kind of freak!” You couldn’t help yourself but lash back out at him. You turned around in your seat and let out a breath. If he wanted the truth, so be it. You might be lucky enough not to face these problems again. “You want the truth? Fine. I knew about special kids. Ever since Sam was killed. The demon told me.” Dean turned his gaze away from the road, he gave you a look from the knowledge that you’d kept about his brother. “Oh, it gets worse. The deal I made? He didn’t want my soul. He wanted—You know. I thought it was gone when I came back from the dead. But…“

Dean noticed that you began growing eerily silent after you trailed off. He took his gaze away from the road again for a moment, he noticed that you were growing nervous. "But, what?” You let out a quiet sigh as your eyes wandered around the road. You still wouldn’t say. Dean took one hand off the wheel and reached over to rest it on your knee, you looked over at him when he gave you a gentle squeeze. You let out a quiet sigh as you rested your palm against his hand, you didn’t want to say this, but it would be better if you did admit it. If you were lucky, time right rewrite itself.

“When I came home, after that amazing night,” You began explaining, your lips stretched into the faintest smile from the memory. But as you continued with the story, your face dropped into a solemn expression. “Lilith was there, Dean. I tried my hardest to fight her off. But one thing lead to another…I couldn’t stop it.“ You looked over at him to see that his soft gaze changed. He was staring at the road with a hardening gaze, you could even see in the darkness of how his jaw tightened. "I should have been more careful, I know.”

“No. This isn’t your fault—none of this is. We’ve got one chance to stop this. I can’t have you doubting yourself. Besides,” Dean took his gaze away from the road one more time. His gaze softened as you could feel your lips stretching into the faintest smile. “I love you no matter what happens, okay? We’re gonna make everything right. Like how it should have been.”

You adjusted yourself in your seat and nodded your head. For a moment you were filled with optimism. Both of you had one shot of finding where this demon was and ending the nightmare before it could begin. Dean had mentioned something about the story his father had told him and his brother about the night John proposed to Mary. He remembered it because it was also the same day that Sam was born, May second. He brought Mary to the lake in the Impala and proposed. It was a long shot, but he had a feeling that’s where the lovers had run off to. But Yellow Eyes wasn’t going to be far behind to get what he wanted.

The drive was beginning to grow shorter as you inched closer to your destiny, you were clinging to the hope that this was going to end up well. But as the car continued down the path and to the lake, the headlights picked up a sight you were expecting to see. You leaned forward in your seat and pressed your palms against the dashboard and prepared yourself when Dean slammed his foot on the breaks. Your eyes were focused on the sight of what the car headlights picked up. Your stomach dropped when you made out the demon’s yellow eyes and Mary’s guilt ridden face after she realized you and Dean caught her making her deal. You noticed that John was lying on the ground, his head was resting on Mary’s lap, unsure if he was unconscious, or worse, dead. It wasn’t helping that the demon was staring at you with a cocky smirk. He thought you were late to get the revenge you’d been threatening him with. But Dean wasn’t going to let his one chance slip through his fingers.

You swung open the car door after Dean brought you back into reality and followed behind him after he grabbed the colt. Just because the deal was made didn’t mean the man was going to let history repeat itself. Yellow Eyes only seemed to let his smile grow even wider when he saw the barrel of the colt pointed at him. “You sure about that, son?” He asked the young man. Dean’s expression never changed. His answer came from the sound of the safety clicking into place. The demon glanced away from Dean as his eyes trailed over to you for a moment. You were confused from what was going on, but just a second after, you could feel the worst ache settling in your stomach, you pressed a hand against your abdomen as it began to grow worse. The pain felt like someone was trying to rip open your body from the inside. “Who is more important to you, Dean?”

The man was confused from what the demon said. He took his eyes away from the sight that was in front of him until he was looking at you. Dean’s expression changed when he saw you drop down to your knees. You pressed your eyelids shut and tried your hardest not to make any sort of noise, but you couldn’t help but feel tears beginning to prick your eyes when you were beginning to understand what the pain felt like. The demon didn’t know it, but he somehow made you remember of how you died at the hands of those hellhounds, how it ripped you apart and used you like a chew toy. You couldn’t help yourself but let out the slightest whimper as the pain only grew worse. “What the hell did you to do her, you son of a bitch?”

“Kill me, Y/N dies.” Yellow Eyes explained, he let out a chuckle when he saw Dean’s expression change again. His cold stone, “drop dead” look came back. But the demon wasn’t afraid, he knew deep down he’d gotten control of the situation. “Or…you point that gun away from me, I make my grand escape and both of you can live happily ever after. What do you say, kid?”

“Dean, do it.” You whispered your answer for him, you knew it was the right thing to do. Yellow Eyes would be dead, and everyone else could live a happy life. You somehow sucked in a deep breath and ignored Dean’s look that was torn, not sure who he should choose. The fate of his family, or the woman he couldn’t live without. His eyes trailed away from you as his gaze lingered over to Mary. She sat on the ground with John in his lap, even with the apologetic look in her eye, she’d done what she thought was right. She saved her future husband from dying at the hands of this monster. “Kill the bastard!”

Dean looked at you with a sullen expression, he made up his answer from what he did next. He dropped the gun to his side as his thumb pressed against the safety, locking it back into place. You couldn’t understand why. “I can’t, Y/N.” He admitted with a quiet voice. “I can’t lose you, too.”

Yellow Eyes grinned to himself once more before making his great departure. You let out a gasp of surprise when you felt the pain suddenly stop, your breathing soon turning into heavy pants as you started feeling normal once more. Your attention was quickly drawn upwards from the demon when you saw him make an escape out of Samuel’s body, the fog disappeared into the night sky before the dead body dropped to the ground. What the Winchesters wouldn’t do to save someone they loved. You were starting to understand that they would do just about anything to make sure nobody was placed in harm. You turned your head away from Mary and John when you realized Dean was now crouched next to you. He reached out and softly grabbed your face so he could let you see how sorry he was for what he’d done. But you couldn’t stay mad at him for what he’d done, his mother had sold her soul for the same reason why. Your eyes drifted to the couple before you could make it back home. At least you learned where he got his selfless from.

\+ + +

You can feel a gasp of surprise become torn from your throat as you feel like you’re falling, your eyelids rip open to see a familiar sight. You’re not in the past anymore. You were lying in in bed with your focus on the nightstand beside you, the same pictures of your family were staring back at you as your eyes drifted to the clock, the red digital letters told you it was midnight. The same memories clouded your mind when you tried thinking about the events you’d been put through the past few days. You tried reminding yourself that you were back home and in the present, and the best part part was that you were still alive. But you can’t help but get stuck on that little detail. It was your fault you failed. You pushed yourself up from the bed and sit for a moment in the silence, your attention was drawn away from the wall when you saw a hazy figure linger in the darkness for a moment. From the silhouette, you knew it was Castiel.

“We couldn’t stop any of it. She still made the deal.” You admitted the truth to him, the same tragic fate that followed both of your families was still intact. You let out a sigh when you began thinking about the terrible fate that Mary had been forced to go through. “She still died in the nursery, didn’t she? Everything happened the way he wanted it.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Castiel said. “You couldn’t have stopped it.”

You pushed yourself to your feet, “What?”

“Destiny can’t be changed, Y/N.” Castiel explained. You watched as he turned around in his spot and looked at you from what he was about to say next. “All roads lead to the same destination.”

You stood in your spot for a moment and listened to his words, when they began settling in your mind, you could feel your blood boil in anger from what he did. “Then why’d you send us back there?” You questioned him with a cold tone. “For the hell of it?”

“For the truth. Now you know everything we do.” Castiel simply gave you those words, as if you were going to keep quiet. But you gave him a cold, stone glare. You demanded more answers of why he put you through such a traumatic experience. “We know what Azazel did to Sam and you. What we don’t know is why—what his endgame is for Sam. He went to great lengths to cover that up. However, we did manage to learn a few things about you, Y/N. Sometimes we can’t change what happens. But it doesn’t mean people won’t try. Your mother did. She saw the signs early.”

You began thinking about what Yellow Eyes had told you about the special children, how he fed demon blood to him as a baby. But you’d always been his special project. What if he wasn’t lying about feeding you demon blood as a child? It would explain all the strange things you saw when you were a child. And why your mother was so persistent on trying to run away her past. She wasn’t trying to keep you from the boys. She was trying to protect you from the demon. "When said he wanted to take what was rightfully his…” You glanced over at the angel, hopeful he would have an answer. "He meant me, didn’t he?”

“You weren’t like the other children. And you’re not like most humans. The blood worked fast through your system. But it seems you never trailed too far from where Azazel wanted you.” Castiel caught you off guard from what he said. You stood in your spot and cocked up an eyebrow, the look on your face was clear enough you wanted an explanation. “I know about the demon blood, Y/N. I thought you would have been more careful about covering your tracks so this wouldn’t happen. Clever story you told Dean.”

“You don’t believe me?” You asked him, you let out a scoff from how he responded.

“It’s beginning to get harder of trusting you, Y/N. After what I saw in Sam…” Castiel trailed off for a moment, before finishing with a subtle blow that was your final straw. “You and him are heading down a dangerous road. And we’re not sure where it leads.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. And what happened to Sam isn’t his fault. Maybe if you get your head out of your ass and stop threatening me, maybe we could have stopped this before it got this far. I am trying my hardest to control whatever is going on right now. And you’re most definitely not helping me.” You began walking forward to your closet, rambling on to the angel, not even caring if he was going to poof off and leave you alone. You threw your suitcase to your bed and looked up to see that he was still here. “I’m going back to the boys. I don’t care what you and your little angel friends try to do. Because there’s one thing for certain. You try and stop me, or worse, go after Sam, I promise. I will find a way to kill you.” You waited a moment for him to respond, but all you got was silence. "I’m not scared of you. If you want to see a monster, I’ll show you one.”

“I’m certain Sam isn’t who you think he is anymore.” Castiel said. You stopped in your spot from what you heard him say. He looked at you in the eye and spoke another threat. This time, it wasn’t directed to you. “Once you see who he’s become, you will understand that he needs to be stopped. Or we will do it for you.”


	4. Metamorphosis.

“Once you see who he’s become, you will understand that he needs to be stopped.”

You thought the angel Castiel was testing your nerves about threatening Sam, making up some lie about what the young man could have been up to. You weren’t trustworthy to someone who only spent his time threatening your own life and trying to push you and the brothers away. But you were beginning to become baffled from what was happening. All though it took a few days of endless travel to track the brothers down, you’d knocked on the motel door to see Dean in a frantic state. Somehow you had gotten back earlier than him, making the perfect moment for the both of you to meet up. Time wasn’t easy to bend, Castiel explained, yet when it needed to be done, he’d do it. You didn’t care about his help. You were more worried about what was happening to Sam. It wasn’t helping when you noticed his head was made, like he’d never slept in it. You kept thinking that the angel might be lying…but what if you were wrong?

You stood outside of the warehouse Castiel had told you about before vanishing, he said it would show you exactly what Sam had been up to Dean was beside you, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from the window, dreaded curious kept you looking. A man was sitting in a chair, tied down with another strange woman standing next to Sam. It could have been considered any old exorcism, but there was a little problem—Sam didn’t say anything. Somehow he gotten the demon out of the man, the fog of smoke came crawling out of his throat before it vanished into thin air. You weren’t sure if you were proud of Sam, or worried for what the hell was going on. You broke your concentration away from the window to look at Dean, but when you noticed he wasn’t there, your face dropped as you let out a long sigh. Things were about to get even more complicated.

Dean, like most men, had a tendency to jump first into an argument before giving the other person a chance to explain themselves of what was going on, and as you quietly followed behind him into the building, you had a feeling this is what was going to happen. You quietly let the metal door shut behind you, the noise echoed through the warehouse, dragging Sam and the woman he was with right at the both of you. Part of you wanted to come across as friendly, but the only expressions that came across was disappointment. Sam looked like a deer in headlights from the ambush he wasn’t expecting. Things weren’t looking up for him with a strange woman standing beside him and the unconscious man hanging off his arm. Dean took a few steps forward, pretending to be casual about this situation, but the look on his face told a different story.

“So,” Dean began talking as he headed closer to his little brother, you silently trailed behind like his shadow. “Anything you want to tell us, Sam?”

“Guys, hold on,” Sam knew he was caught red handed, but he didn’t seem ashamed or scared, you noticed how he fumbled to squeeze in some explanation, but his brother wasn’t going to let him get that far. “Just—”

“You’re gonna say ‘let me explain’?” Dean cut off the man, the tone of his voice was cold. You bit your bottom lip in nervousness as he continued forward, you weren’t sure if you should intervene before things could get worse. “You’re gonna explain this? How about this? Why don’t you start with who she is and what the hell she’s doing here?”

Your eyes trailed over to the small brunette who had been standing at Sam’s side, all though she hadn’t said a word, it seemed her presence was loud enough to capture Dean’s attention. You could feel yourself beginning to stare at her for a long moment of time, wondering why there was something familiar about her, like you’d seen her before. Suddenly you realized that she was the girl from the motel, back when you and Dean tracked down Sam again, but when she spoke, you knew she’d been around for much longer. “It’s good to see you again, Dean. And Y/N, nice to see you’re not trying to send me back to Hell, huh?”

“Ruby?” You asked in disbelief. Your expression dropped in surprise when you were staring at the demon Lilith had sent back to Hell before you’d died. You glanced over at Sam to see what he had to say about this, his expression was only guilt from the more infromation that was coming out faster than he could explain. Like a bumbling idiot, you repeated your question. “Is that Ruby?”

The demon greeted you both with a small smile, not sure what else she could say, sarcasm didn’t get her quite far from before. You stood there in the silence for a moment as you glanced over at Dean when you heard him let out the faintest chuckle, almost making you believe for a moment he was being the jokester here. But there was a sudden shift in his attitude when it changed into the temper he couldn’t control. He lunged for Ruby and threw her against a wall, as he pinned her in place by keeping one hand wrapped around her neck, your eyes jumped to the demon knife he snatched out with his free hand. As he drew it up in the air, Sam tried his hardest to grab ahold of his brother’s wrist to keep Ruby from being stabbed, but Dean proved to make himself powerful. He threw the younger man across the room where Sam stumbled roughly against the window.

Ruby used the freedom to her advantage, she quickly switched places with Dean as she threw him against the wall and roughly wrapped her hands around his neck, squeezed with all her might, cutting off Dean’s airways. “Goddamn it,” You hissed underneath your breath, rolling your eyes from the situation that spiraled back into old habits. “Will the both of you knock it off?”

Somehow it seemed Ruby at least listened to what you had to say, she glanced over at you, almost as if she was trying to test your limits, but from the look in your eye, it was clear you weren’t exactly in the mood. She glanced back over at Dean one more time before she stepped away, her arms remaining back at her side once more. “Well,” The oldest Winchester couldn’t help himself but make a remark at what just happened. “Aren’t you an obedient little bitch?”

Ruby stood her ground from his comment, the look in her eye was clear enough she wasn’t afraid of him. You roughly smacked the older man in his arm from the comment, he ripped his attention away from the demon as he glanced down at you, his deathly glare directed at you now. But you weren’t afraid of him. “Ruby.” Sam drew the demon’s attention back to him. He nodded his head to the man that was sitting across the room, almost forgotten about until Sam pointed him back out. “Ruby, he’s hurt. You should go.”

The demon gave both of you a look before she turned around and attended to the wounded man, she helped ease him up from the ground and slowly start walking to the front door. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dean called out, grabbing the demon’s attention.

“The E.R.,” Ruby answered. “Unless you wanna go another round first.”

You waved her off when you heard the man let out a painful cough, you weren’t going to waste anymore time if there was someone seriously injured. Ruby walked out with the man hanging off her shoulder, leaving all three of you alone in an awkward and tense silence. You knew this was more about the brothers, and after what Dean had learned, his mind was spinning from the bitter conclusion of what Sam could do. For a moment you thought Dean was going to go off on a rampage and start tearing his little brother apart, but his silence cut deeper than any words. You let out a quiet sigh when you watched Dean take off, heading for the exit as Sam tried his hardest to get the man’s attention. But it only failed when you both heard the metal door roughly close shut, the noise echoing through the warehouse. Sam let out a loud sigh and dropped his head in defeat for a moment. When he composed himself, you could feel your jaw tightening when he glanced over at you, knowing well enough both of you shared a deeper connection. You couldn’t get yourself over the disappointment from what he’d been doing behind your back. Shaking your head, you turned around and began walking out the door, leaving Sam by himself.

\+ + +

Things had been awkward before. Families fight and there was going to be bumps in the road before, but this was different. Nobody was bumping heads about how to handle a situation. Dean was forced into start seeing the truth of what his brother could do, and it was starting to scare him. But he wasn’t saying anything to you about it. You stayed by his side so the man wouldn’t do anything stupid, as the time turned into the next afternoon, it was clear enough Dean wanted to go back to the motel to grab a few of this things. Somehow you talked him into spending a few days away from his brother to clear his mind. While you suggested to grab his belongings, Dean forced you into agreeing with at least letting him to do it himself. You weren’t going to let the men alone for one minute, afraid of the insults and hurtful words that could be spilled.

Dean wasn’t happy that you were following him around like a shadow. He shoved the motel key in the lock and twisted it around, hearing the deadbolt click into place as he opened up the door. You stepped inside the room after him, you noticed from the corner of your eye that Sam jumped up from the table when he realized both of you were back. You barely gave him a weak smile when both of you made eye contact, it was clear enough the man was ridden with awful guilt from what he was caught doing. You looked back over at Dean when he grabbed the duffel bag from the floor and began heading for the closet to start grabbing clothes, all of them. He ignored your looks as he continued messily packing everything away.

“Dean, what the hell are you doing?” You asked him. “We’re only going for a few days.”

“Nah. Sam doesn’t need us.” Dean mumbled, not even bothering to stop packing to look at you or his little brother. “Him and Ruby can go fight demons without us.”

You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes at the man’s petty attitude. If he wanted to act like a child, fine. But it wasn’t going to help the fact that Sam was different, both of you were different. You and Sam shared equal expressions when the older man continued to pack in silence. Dean stopped packing for a moment so he could walk across the room to grab something, as he passed his brother, Sam tried his hardest again to get his older brother’s attention. It might have done the trick, but the man’s response wasn’t what you were expecting. Dean roughly swung a fist right at his brother, knocking Sam right in the jaw. “Dean!” Came out of your mouth before you realized it, and all though it was laced with surprise and anger, Sam tried brushing it off as it was nothing.

“You satisfied?” Sam asked his brother, but that only fueled the man to do more damage. Dean took his shot and aimed another punch directly at the other man’s face. You quickly snatched the older man by his wrist and yelled out his name again in more of a threatening tone. But Dean wasn’t the least bit scared of you. He stared at his brother with an icy glare and a bruising fist. Sam took in a few deep breaths and stood back up, you could see his bottom lip was bloody when he took his hand away. “I guess not.”

“Do you even know how far off the reservation you’ve gone?” Dean questioned the man. He roughly tugged his arm free when he realized you were still clinging on to him. You furrowed your brow from how aggressive he was acting, even to you. “How far from normal? From human?”

Sam’s eyes lingered around on the carpet, he tried his hardest to explain what was going on. You noticed how calm and quiet his voice was compared to his brother’s. “I’m just exorcising demons.”

“With your mind!” Dean growled the rest of the truth, his brother didn’t even deny it as he looked at him before Sam’s eyes were drawn back down to the ground. Dean could feel his breathing becoming heavier from the lack of fight his brother was giving him. “What else can you do?”

“I can send them back to Hell.” Sam explained. “It only works with demons, and that’s it.”

Dean wasn’t going to let that be the man’s final answer, he lunged forward and roughly grabbed a hold of him by his shirt, backing him forward to the wall. “What else can you do?!”

You quickly yanked back the man somehow and let Sam stumble backwards, giving him at least a fighting chance to defend himself. “I told you!” Sam fired back at his brother. But Dean wasn’t going to believe that alone, so he continued egging his brother on. You didn’t have a voice in this fight, you were forced to watch this messy scene unfold.

“And I have every reason in the world to believe that.” Dean said to his brother.

“Look, I should have said something. I’m sorry, guys. I am.” Sam tried to apologize to the both of you as he watched his brother began walking off for a moment until he stood across the room with his back turned to the younger man. “But try to see the other side here.”

“The other side?!”

“I’m pulling demons out of innocent people.”

“Use the knife!”

“The knife kills the victim! What I do, most of them survive!” Sam took his chance to reason with his brother, trying to make the man look at things from his point of view. “Look, I’ve saved more people in the last five months than we saved in a year.”

Dean was quiet for a moment. You wondered if he was going to say something that was helpful, as the both of them had always been doing things for the greater good. But when he opened his mouth and spoke again, he wasn’t looking at things with a silver lining. “That what Ruby wants you to think? Huh? Kind of like the way she tricked you into using your powers?” He asked. Dean shook his head in disappointment. “Slippery slope, brother. Just wait and see. Because it’s gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends.”

“I’m not gonna let it go too far.” Sam argued with his brother.

You almost zoned out from the fighting. You were standing with your arms crossed over your chest as you stared at the blank TV screen. You could see yourself in the reflection. But what happened next broke you right out of your concentration, triggering something deep. Your eyes jumped over to the dresser after Dean took a few stomping footsteps forward. He roughly shoved everything to the floor, ignoring the crashing and breaking sounds that echoed through the room. You jumped a few inches off the ground from the sudden burst of anger. Dean didn’t seem to care, he walked over to his brother and shared a few words that were too low. “It’s already gone too far, Sam. If I didn’t know you…” Dean trailed off for a moment. You looked back at the TV, trying your hardest to keep your own frustration and anger to a minimum. But from what the man said next, you couldn’t keep it under control anymore. “I would want to hunt you. And so would other hunters.”

Those words crawled deep under your skin. You could feel your focus become blurry, there was a sudden rush of adrenaline that came rushing through you, and before you realized it, there was a sudden cracking noise. Your eyes widened in fear from what just happened. The feeling quickly vanished, leaving you to a sudden rush of a headache and a familiar warm sensation running down your nose. It happened again, but you didn’t realize it was worse than you thought. You closed your eyes for a moment to somehow stop the pain, the voices around the room turned to white noise, almost as they were growing quieter until they were muffled buzzing inside your ears. For a moment you weren’t in the present anymore. You were somewhere completely different.

Your vision was black for a second before you started seeing something, unsure of what it could have been, things were blurry. But with each second that passed, things were starting to become clearlier. You could see faces and different objects in the room, and muffled voices that were slowly starting to become clearlier. Even though you didn’t know what was happening, you were scared. Your breathing was starting to become heavier when saw one of the blurry figures coming forward. It was your mind that was screaming for you to get away to get away, but you couldn’t, it was like you were frozen in place. You had no idea what was going on, all you knew was that you wanted to get get out of here. A hand reached out to touch your shoulder, doing the trick.

You quickly ripped your eyelids to figure out what was going on. Dean was standing in front of you, his hands were resting on your shoulders as he tried his hardest to shake you out of your trance. You noticed how his entire demeanour had changed. His eyes softened as he tried his hardest to help you get back into reality. But you weren’t going to fall for his little act. You quickly shoved him away. He stumbled backward, his face was written with surprise. When you realized it happened again, you glanced over at the TV screen, it wasn’t working anymore. Cracks trickled down the screen, making the reflection show hundreds of different angles of the room. You looked over at Dean, you made him watch you wipe away the blood from your nose. It happened again.

“You’ve seen what I can do, Dean. I’m not normal anymore. So, honestly, if you saw me, would you kill me, too? After all, I’m a monster, aren’t I?” You questioned the man in a calm tone, but it was clear enough the emotions were getting the best of you when your eyes became glassy. Dean flinched at your accusations, his eyes slowly trailed down to the carpet. His silence wasn’t helping. “All I know is that you’re not the man I fell in love with. I don’t want to be with someone who thinks like this!. Because it reminds me a lot that hunter, Gordon Walker. Remember him? The man that scared me, who stopped at nothing just to see me dead because I’m different. I…” You let out a sigh from what you’d said. “Just go away. Leave me and Sam alone until you can wrap your mind around what the hell is going on. Maybe you realize you’re no better than us.“

Dean listened to your command, he began walking to the motel door as he reached a hand inside his jacket to take out his keys. But when he heard your final sentence, he stopped in his tracks. You watched as he turned his head and look at you, "What’s that supposed to mean?”

You blinked, pulling yourself back into reality, the look in Dean’s eye vanished. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. All you could do was stand there with your arms crossed over your chest and stare at something else in the distance. Dean gripped the keys tighter in his palm, the cold metal tips dug into his palm, the pain almost was like a subconscious punishment for himself. He swallowed before finally heading for the door, roughly slamming it shut. You let out a breath and try your hardest to calm down your nerves. Now it was your turn to somehow get to the bottom of this situation with Sam. You dropped your hands to your side and look at him.

“What the hell is going on?” You asked him. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, your face scrunched up, not sure if you were overcome with sadness or anger. “You knew Ruby couldn’t be trusted. Why would you just jump both feet into doing whatever that bitch wanted?”

“You and Dean were gone. I was here. I had to keep fighting without you, Y/N.” Sam said. He threw the words you told him before you died right back in your face. You let out a sigh, knowing this isn’t what you wanted him to accomplish. “And what I’m doing…it works.”

You allowed the words to sink into your mind, you placed your hands on your hips and started to slowly pace around the room. You looked over at him, you barely gave him a fraction of a smile from the point you were about to make. "Well, tell me. If it’s so terrific, then why’d you lie about it to me, Sam? Clearly, I’ve got something going on here, too. Because demon blood makes our lives so much better!” You were sarcastic and sweet at him, making the jab hurt even more. “If we’re so special, why did an angel tell me to stop you? Why does he keep threatening to kill me?”

Sam’s eyes quickly shifted to you, “What?”

“Castiel said that if Dean doesn’t stop you, he will. I’m trying Sam, you’re not. See, what that means, Sam–it means that God doesn’t want you doing this. For someone who believes in him, I can only say that’s your warning. Some holy sign from above to stop.” You said. “So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me what you’re doing is okay?”

You stared at the younger man for a moment, waiting for him to make a verbal pact that he was going to stop. You didn’t want to see him get hurt, and all though you’d do anything in your power to stop him, everyone else was right, dangerous things were going to happen if he didn’t stop. Sam opened his mouth to speak, but flinched at the sound of his cell phone ringing, cutting off the chance to wrap up this moment. You rolled your eyes from the timing, Sam was mortified from what was going on. He quickly shoved a hand inside his pocket and pulled out his phone and answered it, just to be safe.

“Hello? Hey, Travis. Yeah, hey. Uh, it’s good to hear your voice, too, yeah. Um, look, it’s not really a good time right now.” Sam tried his hardest to get the person off the line, but it seemed something important had come up. “Uh, well, just give me the details, and, uh,” He hesitantly walked over to the nightstand where he saw a pad and paper lying around. “Carthage, Missouri. Looking for Jack Montgomery.”

Sam wrapped up the conversation with the person quickly as it started. He tried his hardest to give you an apologetic smile, but you were already rolling your eyes in frustration, knowing well enough a case had fallen in your lap. Before he could ask for the favor, you were grabbing your own cell phone, making the dreaded phone call to Dean to tell him what was going on.

\+ + +

Somehow, by a miracle, you’d gotten both of the brothers under decent speaking terms, long enough to figure out what was going on. Sam gotten a call from another hunter by the name of Travis, all though the details were a bit fuzzy, it seemed he wanted all of you to check out someone for any strange activity a few states over. You’d been secretly dreading the long drive to Missouri, wondering if the conversation was only to be awkward silence, but it seemed you’d gotten a decent conversation going at least an hour in, and soon enough, you were talking about the experiences you and Dean were able to witness. You’d rather talk about their parents before everything happened and avoid the dreaded truth of what happened last night. For a moment you thought it could just stay in the past, you hoped forever, or, at least, until the tension calmed down.

Sam took in all of the information about his mother with curiosity. You leaned yourself against the front seat with your elbows propped up on the leather, your lips stretched into a faint smile from seeing the younger man look so happy. “I can’t believe it.” He admitted. “Mom—A hunter?”

“I wouldn’t have believed it, either, if I hadn’t seen it myself.” Dean said. You could see the smile stretching across his lips in the headlights from another car that passed by before your vision was engulfed back into the darkness. He let out a chuckle. “That woman could kick ass. I mean, she almost took me down.”

“Um, she did. With one kick, you were down on your knees. I had to come in and save your ass.” You corrected the man, giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder. Dean rolled his eyes, mumbling something underneath his breath about being caught off guard. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a smile grow on your lips from his reaction. You looked over at his little brother. “She was absolutely amazing, Sam. I’m sad you couldn’t have been there. You would have loved her.”

“How’d she look?” He asked you both. “I mean…was she happy?”

“Yeah, she was awesome. Funny and smart. So hopeful. Dad, too.” Dean said, painting a picture for his little brother about the woman they both lost a long time ago. Sam seemed pleasantly surprised to hear the information, giving him at least bit of peace of mind knowing the young couple had a moment of happiness before everything went downhill. The older man let out a faint sigh, trailing off when he brought up the point. “Until, of course…”

Everyone fell into a moment of silence from remembering the dreaded truth, the mood shifted down slightly. You turned your attention back over to Sam when you heard him exhale a sharp breath, he seemed caught in a thought, you knew he acted like this when something was bothering him. It took a few tries of getting the thought out before he openly admitted it to the both of you. What he was about to say accidentally brought back a subject you wanted to avoid. “It’s just—our parents, and now we find out our grandparents, too? Our whole family murdered and for what?” Sam went on about his thought, not knowing what he was about to say wasn’t even talked about yet from his brother. “So Yellow Eyes could get in my nursery and bleed in my mouth?”

Dean was taken back from the information that he heard from his little brother. He didn’t tell him about what he learned. The man took his gaze off the road for a moment to look at you, as if you told the younger man about what you learned. You remained silent. But it was the nervous look in your eye that gave him the answer he was looking for. Knowing you well enough, he realized you didn’t tell Sam, but you had knowledge about the information before he did. "Sam, I never said anything about the demon blood.” Dean said. Sam’s face dropped at his accidental slip. “You knew about that?“

“Yeah, for about a year.” Sam mumbled out his answer, knowing there was no point of denying the truth anymore. Dean’s face became written with shock, he repeated his brother’s answer in almost a sarcastic tone of voice. It wasn’t hard to tell he was angry. Even though the younger man tried his hardest to apologize, it wouldn’t work. "I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately, Sam. But, whatever.” Dean said. His attitude was coming off petty as he brushed off the conversation with a toothy smile. He directed his attention back to the road, only squeezing one more jab. “You don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

Sam tried his hardest to get his brother to at least listen once more, but Dean already put up his walls, knowing he was done. You could feel your eyes rolling upwards from what was happening. Somehow the situation you’d been trying to avoid was dragged back, making the brothers crawl back to their corners of what they thought was right. You sat back in your seat and glanced out the backseat window, hoping the silence would pass for the long drive ahead.

\+ + +

“Are you sure that’s him?”

You leaned further against the open window with the binoculars in your hand as you looked out them one more time to see if this was the man Travis had told Sam about. The Impala was parked across the street of the quaint neighborhood with the greenest lawns and fancy foreign cars that sat in their driveways. And the man you were looking at, Jack Montgomery, seemed to have fit perfectly in the vanilla lifestyle around him. He seemed innocent enough from the kitchen window you viewed him from. You watched as he headed for the refrigerator and grabbed a cold beer, still showing no particular signs of why you and the boys needed to be parked outside of his house.

“Only Jack Montgomery in town.” Sam said. Dean peered into the window, wondering what you all were supposed to be looking for as he trailed off for a moment. “Travis said to keep an eye out for anything weird.”

“Weird?” Dean repeated his brother, Sam nodded. He put the binoculars back to his face and tried again to see if there was anything about this Jack guy Dean could spot out. But he only watched as the man continued to nurse his beer. “All right, well, yeah, I’ve seen big weird, little weird, weird with crazy on top. But this guy? I mean, come on,” He dropped the equipment back down and looked back at his brother. “This guy’s borning.”

“I don’t know, guys.” Sam said. “Travis seemed pretty sure.” 

You decided to give the other hunter the benefit of the doubt, wondering if there was something that all of you had missed. You adjusted yourself in the seat until you were at least comfortable and brought the binoculars back to your eyes. You waited about a moment or so until things gotten weird. And it didn’t take long. An innocent trip back into the fridge was about to become strange. You furrowed your brow when you saw the man grab leftovers and rip open the tinfoil, it wasn’t weird to enjoy a snack, but how he ate caught you off guard. It was savage, like the man hadn’t eaten in days. You could see him take pieces of meat from the chicken he was eating, and shoving them into his mouth, not even giving himself a chance to properly swallow before he was back at it again. When that wasn’t fast enough he ripped off half of the cooked meat and stuffed it into his mouth. He picked it clean until there was nothing left but bones. And when he was done, Jack set the scraps down on the counter before finding his next course.

Jack disappeared from your line of sight for a moment before he came back again, and this time, you were about to see the weird behavior you came here for. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw him open a package of raw ground beef, and just like the chicken, he showed the meat no mercy. He shoved the bloody bits into his mouth and chewed it down like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. But Jack wasn’t done until he ate every last bit of the food. He scooped the meat into his mouth, even tilting the styrofoam package so he could drink up the blood, getting his clothes dirty. It was like you were watching a nature documentary of an animal chomping down on its prey. You dropped your binoculars to your lap, trying a second to process what you’d just seen. As you looked over at the brothers, both of them shared the same looks of disgust.

“Well,” You spoke up, “I’d say that qualifies as weird.”

\+ + +

There was no more denying Jack had something wrong him. Nobody in their right mind would stand there and eat an entire package of raw meat like it was their first meal in days. The real mystery was what was going on with the man. You followed behind the brothers as they headed down to their new motel room, all of you agreed on spending a few hours on trying to figure out what was going on with Jack. Dean unlocked the door and walked inside, you and Sam following behind, only you abruptly stopped in your tracks when the brothers paused. Wondering what was going on with them, you peered over their tall figures to see there was a man sitting in one of the chairs with it facing the door. He casually sat there with an open beer at his side, you noticed his right hand was injured, wrapped up in a cast. For a moment you wondered what was going on, but when Dean looked over at his brother, you realized it was Travis, their old hunting buddy.

“See, Sam.” Dean said. “Told you we should have hid the beer.”

“Smartass. Get over here!” Travis pushed himself to his feet and ordered the oldest brother over, his lips stretching into a grin when he shared a greeting with both brothers, embracing them into a hug before stepping back to look at the men he hadn’t seen in almost a decade. “It’s good to see you, boys. And man, you got tall, kid. How long has it been?”

“Oh, got to be ten years.” Sam said, his lips stretched into a smile from seeing the man.

“You still a—oh, what was it?” Travis asked the younger man. “A mathlete?”

Sam shook his head, he let out a laugh from the memory. “Oh, no.”

You couldn’t help yourself from let your lips stretch into a faint smile from the memory of his old school activites. Dean slapped his brother on the back and teased him, Travis let out a chuckle from the old sibling behavior that hadn’t changed from the last time he saw them. “Been too long, boys. I mean, look at you—grown men. And don’t think I wasn’t going to ask about your little friend here. You must be the famous Y/N I heard about from Sam. Ella’s daughter right?” Travis seemed to have heard of you before from the younger man. “Afraid I can only say I’ve met her once, but let me tell you, she was a pretty damn good hunter—worked close with John. I think the both of them would have been proud of you guys, sticking together like this.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re thick as thieves.” Dean said. The man takes the compliment and turns it back around so it goes as another jab to his little brother. You give him a dirty glare that he ignores, Sam shifted around from the comment. “Nothing more important than family.” 

Travis didn’t seem to notice the tension, he continued talking about the case, you heard him let out a sigh as he began walking back over to the small table. You followed behind and took a seat across from him, the brothers joined after they shredded their jackets, Sam grabbed the next free seat between you and Travis, leaving Dean to stand. He stood behind you, his hands resting against your chair as Travis went on talking. “Sorry I’m late for the dance. But thanks for helping out an old man. I’m a little, uh,” The hunter placed up his right arm, showing off his cast with a chuckle at his mishap. “Shorthanded. So, you track down Montgomery?”

“Yeah, we found him at his home.” Sam answered.

Travis raised a brow, “And?”

“Well, he had a hell of case of the munchies,” Dean said, getting to the strange detail about the behavior you saw from the man. “Topped off with a burger that he forgot to cook.”

“That’s him, all right.” Travis said.

“What’s him?” You asked the other hunter.

“Kids, we got a rougarou on your hands.” He explained, your face scrunched up slightly.

“A rougarou?” Dean repeated after the man. “Is that made up? That sounds made up.”

“They’re mean, nasty little suckers—rotted teeth, wormy skin, the works.” Travis explained. You weren’t convinced the man you’d saw was that. He seemed normal enough. Except for the fact you’d seen him digest an entire package of raw meat. But people have been known to do stranger things, you weren’t sure if Jack was the creature you were looking for. And Travis seemed to have noticed. “He’ll turn ugly soon enough. They start off human, for all intents and purposes.”

“So, what,” Sam asked, “They go through some kind of metamorphosis?”

“Yep, like a maggot turning into a bull fly. About age thirty, they start changing—bones shift around, animal instincts kick in. But most of all, they’re hungry.” Travis continued to explain. Dean asked the man what a rougarou could have been hungry for. The answer he gave surprise you. “At first, everything, but then for long pig.”

Sam turned his gaze away as he let out a noise, disgusted from what he heard. You cringed at the thought. Dean didn’t seem to know what was gross about the new food. “He means human flesh, Dean.” You muttered the definition to him. “They like to chow down on people.”

“And that’s my word of the day.” Dean said, you smiled faintly at his reaction.

“Hunger grows in till they can’t fight it. Till they got to take themselves a big, juicy chomp, and then it happens. They transform completely and fast. One bite’s all it takes—eyes, teeth, skin all turns. No going back, either. They feed once, they’re a monster forever.” Travis continued on with the details about this monster, making it known there wasn’t much chances of seeing a happy end for the man cursed. “And our man Jack’s headed there on a bullet train.”

“Well, how’d you find this guy if he’s a walking and talking human?” Dean asked.

“Let’s just say it runs in his family. Killed his daddy back in seventy-eight. Son of a bitch managed eight bodies before I put him down. Guy used to be a dentist—cadillac, trophy wife. Little did I know, pregnant trophy wife.” Travis said. “She put the boy up for adoption. By the time I found out, he was long gone, lost in the system.”

Sam seemed amused from this, “You mean to tell me you couldn’t find someone?”

“I’m not sure if I wanted to. The idea of hunting down some poor kid…I don’t think I’d have the heart.” Travis admitted, he let out a sigh from the thought of harming a small child. “No. Wanted to wait, make damn sure I had the right man. Apparently, I do.”

\+ + +

You weren’t exactly convinced there was a reason why you needed to jump toward a death sentence for someone who didn’t do anything wrong. Travis seemed to have been a nice guy, and probably a great hunter, but you couldn’t help yourself but research the lore behind rougarous to learn what you could about them. And you were happy that you did. You came across a section of articles about a possible treatment of how to handle the treatment of this curse. You printed out what information that was deemed important and headed for the brothers’ motel. Quietly knocking, you stepped inside after you heard Sam call out, thinking it could only have been you. You opened up the door and noticed Travis and Dean were sitting at the table, constructing gas cans. Burning the poor people alive was the only way to kill them.

“Not wasting any time, are you?” You asked.

“None to waste.” Travis said, not bothering to take his gaze away from the project he was working on. “The guy hulks out, we won’t be finding bodies, just remains.”

“What if he doesn’t hulk out?” You curiously questioned the older hunter. The man looked up from what he was doing and stared at you, wondering what you were talking about. You placed the papers down on the table. “I did a little homework. I’ve been checking out the lure on rougarous.”

“My thirty years of experience not good enough for you?” Travis wondered.

You furrowed your brow, taking a bit of offense from his tone. “No. I just wanted to be prepared.”

“Y/N loves her research. She does.” Dean jumped into the conversation to make a small joke. But it only ended with you feeling backed in the corner. “She’s obsessed with trying to be the smartest person in the room. It’s a sickness. It is.”

“Look, everything you said checked out, of course,” You said, bringing your attention back to Travis, trying your hardest to ignore Dean’s comment. “But I found a couple of interesting stories about people who have this rougarou gene or whatever. See, they start to turn, but they never take the final step. If they never eat human flesh, they don’t fully transform.”

“So, what,” Sam looked up from the papers and asked, “Go vegan, stay human?”

“Basically. Or in this case, eat a lot of raw meat.” You explained to everyone. “Just not—”

“Long pig.” Dean finished, cutting you off.

You couldn’t help yourself but let the faintest smile spread across your lips from his answer. All though he also seemed to have been intrigued from this new information you were giving him, Travis wasn’t convinced. “Good on you for the due diligence, Y/N. But those are fairy tales, just like the ones your momma read to you as a child.” He said. You watched as the man pushed himself up to his feet, an empty coffee cup in his good hand. He walked to the small kitchen area to pour himself another drink. “Fact is, every rougarou I ever saw or heard of, took that bite.”

“Okay, well,” You walked forward to him, not giving up the fight. “that doesn’t mean Jack will.”

“So, what do we do?” Travis asked you. “Sit and hope and wait for a body count?”

“No, we talk to him, explain what’s happening.” You said, standing your ground. The hunter was treating you like what you suspected, a brainless bystander who had no idea what was going on. You might not have seen one of these before, but you weren’t going to let death be the only option for this man. “That way, he can fight it.“

“Fight it? Are you kidding me?” Travis chuckled at your response, his lips stretched into an amused smik. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a look, unamused from how he was treating your ideas. “Look at it this way, sweetheart. You ever been really hungry? I mean, haven’t-eaten-in-days hungry?” You looked over your shoulder when Dean responded. You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your head. “Yeah. Right, then. Somebody slaps a big, juicy sirloin in front of you, you walking away? Hmm?”

“Depends. If you’ve got self control, you’ll be fine.” You argued back to him. “That’s what it’s all about. Obviously someone like you, a hunter who wants to wrap up things quickly without looking at the bigger picture would probably be able to relate to. Or maybe it’s because you don’t like the fact someone with less experience found a loophole and you don’t want to listen.”

"My hunting skills have kept me alive for this long, and I plan on doing what’s right. What we are to him is just meat on legs.” Travis said. He wasn’t going to crack or stand down to his own personal beliefs. You rolled your eyes and glanced away from him. “I’m sorry. I’m sure he’s a stand-up guy. But it’s pure, basic instinct. Everything in nature’s got to eat. You think he can stop himself ‘cause he’s nice?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. “But we’re not going to kill him unless he does something to get killed for.”

You stood your ground on how you wanted the case to go, not knowing there was a deeper reason why you wanted to see a more happier ending. You straightened out your posture before walking to the motel door, you walked back to the hallway and slammed the door shut, leaving the men alone to figure out what just happened. Travis was taken back from the outburst, he looked to the brothers for some sort of explanation for your behavior.

“Ain’t she a feisty little thing.” Travis commented. “Is she always like that?”

Dean let out a sigh, “Oh, that’s just a mild taste.”

“I think she’s right.” Sam said, bringing the attention over to him. “We should at least talk to him.”

\+ + +

It seemed your little plan had worked out, after all. Sam agreed with going along to have a talk with Jack, and all though Travis stood his ground to continue on with his own plan, Dean went along. Everyone sat in silence for the beginning part of the drive to the Montgomery household, you were wondering how this conversation was going to go. You were nervous the man was going to find you all crazy and throw you out before getting the chance to explain yourselves. It was Dean’s voice that broke your concentration away from the sight of trees, your attention went to the driver’s side, wondering what he was going to say.

“All right, so we’re gonna go have a little chat with this guy, which, you know, I’m down. But I just want to make sure, if push comes, you both are gonna shove.” Dean began off the conversation with a strange opening, prompting you to ask him what he meant. “Well, odds are we’re gonna have to burn this guy alive.”

Your face scrunched up from the conclusion he was drawing near to. Neither one of you talked to him yet and Dean’s mind was already on the worst case scenario. “This guy has a name and a wife.” You said, pointing out the small fact that you’d been thinking about.

“Yeah, who we’re probably gonna make a widow, okay? I mean, you heard Travis.” Dean said. You crossed your arms over your chest when he made it clear of siding with the other hunter, you were only feeling your anger bubble more as he continued. “He’s gonna turn. They always turn.”

“Well, maybe he won’t.” You argued. “Maybe he can fight it off.” 

“And maybe he can’t.” Dean said. “That’s all I’m saying, Y/N.”

“All right,” You tried ending the conversation on a neutral note for the both of you. An open ending that could leave both parties open for their own opinion. “We’ll just have to see, then, okay?”

ou leaned back in your seat, hoping the argument could have been left off at that, but Dean wasn’t done. He was mindlessly letting this conversation drag on. “This is what I mean, guys. You sure your emotions aren’t getting in the way here?”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, wondering what he had to do with this.

“You know, nice dude, but he’s got something evil inside.” Dean said, you furrowed your brow as he continued on. “Something in his blood. Maybe you two can relate.”

You blinked from what Dean had said to you, it was almost like he leaned over in his seat and slapped you right across the face. It wasn’t that long ago, hell it hadn’t even been two days, since you openly admitted about what happened to you. You found your voice a moment later. If he wanted to drag you down, you were going to do the same. “Oh, I thought you didn’t care. You would love me no matter what.’ You said, mocking the man in a sweet voice, making his eyes jump to the rearview mirror. His face dropped when you repeated. "And if I don’t recall, it wasn’t that long ago your own father wanted you to kill Sam and you were so heartbroken over it. Of course, I should have expected this from you by now.”

It was his turn to look at you with confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a hunter, Dean. Can’t really think too hard about seeing the good in people. And honestly, I really shouldn’t have expected you to be good with relationships. After all,” You looked at him in the eye from what you were about to say next. “You can barely hold company one more than one night. And your longest girlfriend only lasted for a month—and that’s being generous. I’m sure you’re changing your mind about me. After all, I’m not exactly squeaky clean.”

"Or maybe it’s because of your selfish personality. It’s always about you. You’ve been changing a hell of a lot lately, Y/N. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you guys. It’s one problem after another.” Dean was hurt from what you had said, and unknowingly, he was getting back at you. “Don’t you think I have a right to freak out, too?”

“Stop the car.” Sam mumbled, putting the attention over to him. You and Dean were thrown off from the new voice that was brought into the conversation. When the younger man wasn’t heard, he spoke up again, and this time, louder. “Stop the car or I will!”

Dean knew from the pissed off expression his brother was giving him, there was something bothering him. He drove for a moment or so until he saw an opening in the trees for him to park. As the Impala turned left onto an empty dirt road, Sam jumped out of the car, peeved from what he’d been hearing from you and his brother, he didn’t give Dean a chance to park before he was getting out so he could try and walk off this aggression. When the car came to a full stop, you opened up the backseat door and stepped out. You watched as Sam tried his hardest to keep calm, but he couldn’t take it anymore when he saw his brother get out.

“You want to know why I’ve been lying to you, Dean?” Sam asked his brother. He trailed around the front of the car so he was walking forward to his brother. “Because of crap like this!”

“Like what?” Dean questioned his brother.

“The way you talk to me, the way you look at me like I’m a freak!” Sam yelled, ignoring his brother when he tried defending himself. “You know, or even worse, like I’m an idiot! Like I don’t know the difference between right and wrong!”

With that off his chest, you watched as Sam walked off to the other side of the small wooded area, turning his back to his brother. He stared at the river for a moment, until, his brother spoke up. “Do you know the difference, Sam?” Dean asked his little brother. Sam turned around to face the man. “I mean, you’ve been kind of strolling a dark road lately.

“You have no idea what I’m going through.” Sam argued with his brother. “None.”

“Then enlighten me!” Dean yelled at his brother.

“I’ve got demon blood in me, Dean! This disease, pumping through my veins, and I can’t ever rip it out or scrub it clean!“ Sam said, telling the man what he’d been feeling since finding out what was wrong with him. "I’m a whole new level of freak! And I’m just trying to take this–this curse…and make something good out of it. Because I have to.”

Dean was taken back from the clear view point his brother told him. He might have been hard on the both of you, but Dean wasn’t exactly the type to apologize right away, he focused the attention back to the case. “Let’s just go talk to the guy.” Dean suggested, only the wording made you roll your eyes as Sam quietly scoffed. “I meant, Jack. Okay?”

You shifted around in your spot from Dean’s sudden change of heart about the situation. You glanced over at Sam to see what he was going to say about the matter, but when he kept quiet, you knew the argument had died off. You turned around in your spot and headed for the backseat, you slid yourself inside and quietly waited for the brothers to join.

\+ + +

Things about this situation were a bit backwards from what you were used to. You’d only had to break this sort of bad news once before. And it wasn’t easy. There was with a woman named Madison. She seemed an innocent, sweet person who got caught up in a werewolf case you and the brothers were working on. While you suspected her creepy ex boyfriend could have been the monster you were looking for, turns out, she was responsible for all the killings. She had been attacked and bitten a few months before by another werewolf. All of you tried your hardest to find some loophole of how Madison could control her animalistic side, but in the end, she was met with the same fate of all the other monsters you hunted. You hoped Jack Montgomery could have been a different story. You and the brothers arrived back at the man’s house in the afternoon, after trying his front door with no answer, you trailed back around to see the fence was unlocked.

You opened up the wooden door and stepped inside the backyard, when you heard the sound of running water, you wandered deeper inside to see Jack himself. The brothers trailed behind as you called out the man’s name. Jack was mindlessly staring off into space, watering his garden with a hose that wasn’t even moving around, just letting the dirt below become overflooded and muddy. Your lips stretched into a small smile when Jack looked over at you.

“Hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. This is Sam Winchester,” You gestured an arm to the tallest man before looking over at the one who probably didn’t want to be here at all. “And his brother—Dean. Um,” Your fingers nervously twisted together from what you were about to say. “We need to talk.”

Jack’s brow scrunched up slightly from what you’d said. He looked back and forth between the three of you, wondering what was going on. “About?”

“About you.” Sam answered for the man. “About how you’re changing.”

The man was taken back from what he heard, “Excuse me?”

“You’re probably feeling your bones move under your skin,” Dean spoke up, bringing up strange symptoms Jack must have been going through the past few days. “And your appetite’s reaching, you know, hungry hungry hippo levels. How am I doing so far?”

Jack remained silent for a moment from what he heard Dean say. He suspiciously looked back and forth between the three of you before asking, “Who the hell are you guys?”

“We’re people who know a little something about something.” Dean said.

“We’re people who can help.” You corrected the other man. Jack didn’t seem too keen on the idea of you staying here, his expressions shifting around. “Please, just hear us out.”

Jack still seemed a bit hesitant, but after a moment, he nodded, giving you permission to explain what was really going on. It took a few minutes of getting the basics out of the way before you were diving into the information that made Jack look at you like you were crazy. His forehead crinkled upward as he tried processing the things you were trying to explain. You were telling him the monsters he grew up to believe were just fictional beings ending up being true. It was always a tough pill to swallow for people, but you all were making it worse for the man. He learned that he wasn’t a normal person who should be scared about the creatures lurking in the dark. Because the man was one himself. When you told him the term, Jack’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“A-A what?” He asked you.

“A rougarou.” Dean said. “Sounds made up, I know, but believe me, it’s not.”

Jack dropped his hands to his side and let out a sigh of defeat. He decided to play along and see where this could go. “All right, I’ve noticed certain things.” He admitted. “I mean, some strange things, but I just—I don’t know. I’m—I’m sick or something.”

“Your father was one of these things.” You said. Jack looked over at you, a sigh came out when you corrected yourself. “Your real father. He passed it on to you.”

“No.” Jack muttered underneath his breath. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Are you guys listening to yourselves? You sound like you’re–”

“Let’s skip the whole ‘You guys sound crazy,’ shall we? You’re hungry, Jack.” Dean said, cutting off the man before he could finish his sentence. He was growing impatient, and all thought it might have been insensitive to skip straight toward the truth, the information needed to be said. “You’re only gonna get hungrier.”

Jack looked over at the man, “Hungrier for?”

“Long pig.” Dean said. “You know, a little manburger helper may have crossed your mind already.”

You glanced over at Jack, who stood there for a moment and processed the words he’d heard. He nervously swallowed, still denying the truth with a simple answer. “No.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Jack.” Sam spoke up, trying to help the man. The younger brother wanted to see a happy ending like you. But the other man turned his head, a scoff coming out from what he was hearing. “You can fight it off. Others have.”

“We’re not gonna lie to you, though. It’s not gonna be easy.” Dean said. You crossed your arms over your chest from the truth he told the man. He wasn’t going to sugarcoat everything and make the man believe his journey to redemption was going to be a walk in the park. “You’re gonna feel like an alcoholic swimming around in whisky. But I’m telling you, you to say no, or—”

“Or what?” Jack questioned the man.

“You feed once, and it’s all over.” Sam answered. “And then we’ll have to stop you.”

“Stop me?” Jack repeated the man. “My dad—did, uh, somebody stop him?”

You let out the faintest sigh, “Yes.”

“Get off my property right now. I see you guys again, I’m calling the cops.” Jack said, having enough of this conversation that was making his head spin. Sam tried his hardest to explain about how his wife, how everyone he knows was in danger. But the other man wasn’t having it. You flinched when he raised his voice, losing his patience before he could control it anymore. “Now!”

His neighbor from across the fence broke his attention away from the hedges he was cutting to look over, wondering what was going on. You bit the inside of your cheek when you realized it was time to go. You didn’t even bother trying to look over at Jack, knowing well enough he was done with this conversation. You began walking forward to the exit you came into. Dean walked faster a bit until he was in pace with you. When you glanced over at him, the man looked over his shoulder at Jack before turning his attention to you. From what he said, your lips stretched into a frown in annoyance.

“Nice talk.”

“Bite me.”

\+ + +

You peeked out of the backseat window again, spotting the man across the street. You and the brothers had been following Jack around town for most of the day, and as night shifted back around, he wasn’t feeling comfortable staying at home. A sigh fell from your lips when you watched him sit on the bench, it wasn’t hard to see the fear in his expressions. What you had told him must have been sitting in his mind, replaying over and over again. It wasn’t hard to know there was something wrong with him. Everything that he was going through was a bitter pill to swallow, it was always tough on people to come to the realization that monsters were real. But Jack was having more of a worse time than anyone else you tried helping on a hunt. He was one himself, and knowing that he was starting to crave human flesh was making him terrified. You looked away from the man as you began thinking of a plan, some speech you could give him to at least make him feel a bit better. Without even going over the consequences in your head, you reached for the door handle.

“Whoa, whoa.” You looked over the front seat to see that Dean was looking over at you, his face dropped into a confused expression of what you were doing. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna go talk to him again.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “What’s the big deal?”

“You could come back with half of your neck missing after he takes a bite out of you.” Dean said, you rolled your eyes from his assumption. “Y/N, it’s safer if you just stay back. Better not to poke the beast and become his first meal.”

“No. He’s scared, Dean. And I think I know what he’s going through. Empathy is hell of an emotion that can help us right now.” You tried explaining yourself, Dean arched an eyebrow up from your excuse. You looked back over at the man who was sitting across the street. “Maybe it’ll make him feel better that he’s not the only one going through something like this.. You know, something evil he inherited from his father.”

You weren’t going to give anymore excuses of why you wanted to do this. And without letting the brothers give another word, you opened up the door and stepped on to the sidewalk. You slammed the door shut and let out a breath, your eyes locking back on Jack’s figure that hasn’t moved yet. Shoving your hands inside your pocket, you cautiously looked both ways of the quiet streets before you began walking forward. You hoped he wasn’t going to run off or threaten to call the police when he spotted you coming forward. If anyone could talk some sense into the man, you thought it could have been you. But as you began getting closer to Jack, you stopped in your tracks when he slowly gotten up from his seat on the bench. You furrowed your brow when you noticed something caught his attention. His head was tilted upwards as his body began to shake. Out of curiosity, you followed his sight to see what he was staring at. When you realized he was staring at a woman from her apartment on the third floor, your face dropped.

You tried calling out the man’s name when you saw him start walking forward to the fire escape, but he was lost in his own desires. You let out a frustrated sigh and began following after him. You ended up running fast as you could, trying to keep up with the man that had more distance than you. Somehow you were able to catch up and spot him on the second floor, but you faced another dilemma. You nervously swallowed glanced up at the tall building. Heights always had been a secret fear of yours, and climbing wasn’t one of your favorite activity. A woman’s life was at stake, you reminded yourself. You took in a deep breath and stepped back before you got a running start, jumping high as you could before you somehow managed to grab ahold of the bottom metal bar. You hung around for a moment before you reached out a hand to grab the next bar up, pulling yourself upwards.

You took a mental note of doing more upper body workouts, your muscles were burning as you continued climbing up the ladder until you came to your next obstacle. You reached upwards and snuck yourself through the small opening for the second story fire escape. Out of a bad habit, you cautiously peered below to see that you were up higher than you were comfortable with. You let out another sigh and turned around in your spot to start going back up, knowing you had another level to go before you could catch Jack and stop him from doing something he’d regret. But he was closer than you thought. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw him standing there. Taking caution, you stepped backwards to give yourself space from him, your body pressed against the railing of the balcony. You could feel the cold metal and the wetness from the sprinkling rain start seeping through your clothes. As you opened your mouth to try and talk, you quickly noticed his eyes in the street lamps that hovered above to see that they were bloodshot red. Something was wrong with him.

“Jack. Listen to me.” You spoke in a calm tone. It wasn’t hard to notice his cravings were kicking in, his breathing was becoming heavier when he noticed you were cornered. You peered over your shoulder to see that you were leaning closer to the edge, your heartbeat began pounding faster as you forced yourself to look back at him. “You need to fight this. I know you can.”

It wasn’t helping the situation that Jack was staring at you like his meal. You couldn’t help yourself but lean backwards, hoping this situation wasn’t going to end in you losing a chunk of your skin after he lost himself in the temptation. You could feel yourself leaning on your tippytoes as Jack was cleaning closer than you were starting to feel comfortable with. As you began thinking of a plan to shove him backwards, that’s when things weren’t looking up in your favor. You could feel your grip around the railing become loose as you stumbled backward, your worst fear was about to come true.

You accidentally went tumbling down with no chance of catching yourself before you were about to land on the pavement. Freefalling from the second story seemed to have felt like forever. Jack seemed to realized what was going on, he peered over the edge with a terrified expression on his face. But you didn’t seem to notice when you dropped to the ground, and directly on your side, cushioning your body from anymore possible damage. Somehow it could have been worse than you imagined. Your entire side of your body hurt, you brushed off the idea that it was only going to be bruising. But you doubt it was going to be that easy. You swore you heard a snapping sound after dropping to the hard pavement.

Footsteps coming from behind made you turn your head around, wondering what was going on. You noticed Sam was in the distance, running forward for the entrance of the apartment building, Dean was heading forward to see if you were all right. You tried your hardest to push yourself up to a sitting position, but the pain in your arm caused you to stop for a moment. A sharp feeling shot through your body when you somehow managed to sit upwards on the pavement with Dean’s help. He began bombarding you with questions, trying to make sure you were all right. You ignored his worries as you cranked your head upwards, trying to see where the man you’d been chasing was still there, looking down at the sight with a guilty expression. But when you stared at the fireplace above, he was nowhere to be seen.

\+ + +

You were really hoping something was bruised. You let out the faintest noise when the Impala came to a slow stop right outside of the Montgomery household, catching you off guard. It might have been a long shot, but you and the brothers were hoping Jack retreated back to his house after nearly trying to find a midnight snack. And there was accidentally letting you fall off the second story of a building. You took your normal hand off your arm and opened the door. You stepped outside and shut the door with your hip. The brothers followed behind soon after, you cautiously looked around, your eyes jumped to the pickup truck across the street that stuck out like a sore thumb in this kind of upscale neighborhood.

“I guess now we know where Travis is.” Dean circled around the car so he was now standing on the sidewalk with you and his brother. He tried calling the other hunter on the way here, but it seemed the man had jumped on taking matters into his own hands.

“That stupid son of a bitch.” Sam muttered underneath his breath.

You had to admit, you shared the same fuel of aggression when you realized the hunter made this hunt even more complicated. You began walking forward to the house, but you stopped in your tracks when you felt a hand lightly wrap around your good wrist. You looked over your shoulder to see that Dean had stopped you. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He asked. You tried opening your mouth and saying how you could have been of use somehow. Dean cracked a smirk from what you were trying to do, Sam gave you a nod, knowing it would have been better if you stayed back. You rolled your eyes before letting out a sigh of defeat, you leaned against the car to watch the brothers head off into the Montgomery household. When they vanished from sight, you glanced down at your watch to look at the time.

Fifteen minutes passed and nothing changed. You tapped your foot against the pavement and glanced over at the front door again, wondering what was going on. And out of a bad habit, you always stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong. You walked up the porch steps and stood outside of the front door, you quieted your breathing and pressed your ear against the wooden door, hopeful that you could hear something. But all were getting was pure silence. You stepped back and hesitated for a moment of opening the door. Maybe they were just talking, trying to take either Jack or Travis off the edge. Or maybe the worst happened and one of them were hurt. You bit your bottom lip and took your good hand to wrap around the handle of the door before quietly opening it, letting yourself inside the house.

The sight you stumbled onto wasn’t what you hoped for. Your eyes lingered over to a dining room chair that was tipped over with rope lying on its side. It wasn’t too hard to notice the crimson stains that soaked into the carpet and lead a trail to across the couch, you didn’t want to know where it lead. But your real attention was brought to what laid right across from your feet. You looked down to see the brothers weren’t in the best shape. Dean was lying on his stomach, passed out on the glass coffee table. Sam was unconscious himself, with a nasty looking head wound. Your eyes wandered over to the bloodstained that trailed across the carpet. Suddenly you needed to know what it was. You quietly walked forward to see it was something that made your stomach feel uneasy, you quickly looked away and closed your eyes before you could be sick. If you had been correct, you were pretty sure it was someone’s chewed up body. You knew it couldn’t have been his wife, Jack wouldn’t do that. You began wondering if that was Travis’ chewed up body. But if that’s what was left of him, it only meant one thing.

Your eyelids ripped open when you heard the sound of the wooden floors creaking, someone was coming forward. What was standing in front of you made you nearly jump out of your skin. Jack couldn’t control himself anymore, he’d transformed into the monster you tried warning him about. His skin was different, you noticed veins popping out from every spot imaginable. And it wasn’t hard to detect the blood that was soaked in his clothes and spread across his face. He looked like someone who had munched down on a body. You swallowed down the uneasy feeling that traveled back to your stomach.

“Jack, take it easy. Shall we? I’m not here to hurt you.” You tried to be patient with the man, wanting to make him believe you were on his side. Your eyes dropped to the gas can that wasn’t too far from where you were standing. This might have been a long shot, but if you talked to Jack, gain his trust, you might be able to get out here without becoming his next meal. You tried putting your hands up in a defensive position as you began walking away from him, you winched when you accidentally put your wounded up too far. “Look. I know what you’re going through.”

“No, you don’t.” Jack said with a venomous tone. “You’re here to kill me.”

“You and I are more alike than you realize. My dad—he gave me something I didn’t want. Some would call me a monster, too.” You admitted to the man. You began taking small steps backwards with your eyes wandering over the can. You were getting closer. “I just want to help, Jack. That’s all…” You trailed off for a moment when stopped at the can. Taking in a small breath, you reached a hand inside your back pocket without him noticing and pulled out a lighter. You waited a moment to let him think you were here to talk. Giving him a small smile, that’s when you made your move.

You quickly bent down and stretched out your good arm, your fingers brushed against the cold metal, making you believe you were going to save the day. But it only ended with you being tackled to the floor after Jack realized what you were doing. You stumbled to your back and tried your hardest to fight off the man with one hand as your legs kicked around, managing to knock him down to the floor. You rolled over to your stomach and reached out for the can. But someone got it before you could even touch it. Jack brushed off your attack and grabbed the red gas can before you. He didn’t believe you were here to help. His animalistic instincts kicked in. Before you could stop it, Jack roughly swung down at the back of your head, knocking you unconscious.

\+ + +

“Dean? Y/N?”

Your eyelids pressed themselves together when you felt yourself coming back to consciousness after you heard someone speak your name. But you felt like that might have been the worst decision from the stare you were in right now. Every fiber in your body felt like it was in pain. You sucked in a deep breath and opened your eyes to see where you were again, or what the hell was going on right now. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position with your good arm, quickly remembering the sharp pain coming from the other one after you accidentally put pressure on it. But the little task seemed to have taken more energy out of you than you’d realized. You leaned against the side of the couch to steady yourself and regain your breathing back to normal. As you rested your wounded arm, you began looking at your surroundings again to see you were in the living room. Something felt…off. But you didn’t know what it was.

You examined the room to see that Dean was lying on the coffee table, still passed out with no chances of coming back around, your eyes slowly wandered over to the person who was sitting next to him, and it wasn’t leaving a good feeling in your stomach. Jack was crouched down on the ground, covered in blood, but he was more terrified of what he’d done, and what he could do. You took your attention off of the man when you heard the sound of a doorknob roughly being twisted around, you looked over your shoulder to see the noise was coming from the door right across the staircase. It wasn’t too hard to realize Sam was locked in the closet, leaving you alone with Jack. You nervously took your attention off the door when you heard someone speak up for you and the oldest brother. Fear and guilt dripped from Jack’s tone.

“They can’t come to the phone right now.” Jack called out.

“Jack!” Sam’s voice could be heard loud and clear, and for added measure, you heard him roughly bang against the door. He must have been locked in. “If you hurt them, I swear to God!”

“Calm down! They’re alive!” Jack yelled at the man. “But not if you don’t calm down!”

“Sammy, everything’s fine.” You found your voice, reassuring the younger man. You swallowed down a hiss of pain when you shifted around in your spot on the floor, trying your hardest to sit up a bit straighter. You looked over at the man across room. “Jack. Listen to me. Open the door. We can figure this out, okay?”

Jack scoffed at your plan, still holding a grudge from what you tried doing to him earlier. He looked at you with a deathly glare. “We’ll have ourselves a little brainstorm session.” Jack hissed. You gave him a sympathetic expression as you tried pleading with him. But he wouldn’t crack. “I don’t think so. After what you did? You sent your friend here. He tried to burn my wife alive!”

“What?” You asked him with a confused expression. “Why?”

Jack was silent for a moment, as if he was debating with himself of sharing the knowledge about his wife and their unborn child. But he wouldn’t let that information slip, afraid you all would go after the woman again like Travis did. “He didn’t say. I guess psychopaths don’t have to explain themselves.”

“Listen to me. You’ve got to believe us. My friends and I, we never would have hurt her, okay?” You tried gaining the man’s trust, playing the sympathetic person in this situation. But as you looked back at him, you soon were beginning to feel that emotion changing, Jack wasn’t focusing on you. He was crawling forward to Dean, his eyes hungrily spotting the small pool of blood lying on the glass table. You tried your hardest to move, but the pain shooting from your side kept you down. ‘Don’t do it, Jack. Don’t even think about touching him.“

Jack didn’t listen, the cravings were becoming too much for him. For a test, he reached out a hand and picked up a small dab of Dean’s blood. You watched as he reached his hand to his mouth and placed the fingers inside, tasting the substance with pleasure. “Oh, God.” He muttered to himself. “I’m so hungry.”

“Jack,” You called out the man’s name. “Don’t do this.”

He turned his attention away from Dean and looked over at his shoulder, you could see his facial expressions changed again to a type of look that wasn’t leaving a good feeling for the situation. It wasn’t making you think he was going to mark you as his next meal. It was more of a hatred glare, like everything was your fault. “I can’t ever see my family again.” He said. “You three, your friend  
you made me into this!”

“No one’s making you kill us.” You argued back with him. You let out a sigh as you laid your head against the couch. He needed someone to understand that he wasn’t alone. “Listen to me, Jack. You got this dark pit inside of you. I know. Believe me, I know. But it doesn’t mean you have to fall into it. You don’t have to be a monster.”

Jack looked over at you, his lips stretched into a frown. “Have you seen me lately?”

“It’s not your fault for what happened to you. I understand, trust me.” You said. You softened your tone as you continued talking to the man, trying to ease him down from doing something he would regret. “It doesn’t matter what you are. It only matters what you do. It’s your choice.”

You hoped the encouraging attitude and words would have been enough to help Jack choose the side to somehow fight this sickness inside of him. But you could sense that thought crashing and burning from what happened next. Jack was too far gone to save himself from becoming any worse than he was now. You watched as he squeezed his eyelids squeezed shut, a groan of pain escaped his mouth as he hunched over for a moment. You tried calling out his name, worried that he was in pain, you’d never hunted a rougarou before. Maybe the man was trying to fight off more of the cravings he desired. Again, you were wrong. When he sat back up and opened his eyes, you nervously swallowed from how he was looking at you like a piece of meat.

Even though you knew he was long gone, you tried again to reason with the man, find the last bit of humanity inside of him before you ended up like Travis. But Jack wasn’t listening. His mind was too focused on getting what he craved. You looked away for a moment to see there was anything you could possibly protect yourself until you came up with a better plan. But it seemed things had taken a different turn of events when you glanced over your shoulder, your head cranked upwards to see Sam was standing over you. The expression on his face was almost painful, like he didn’t want to do this. When you noticed him holding the gas can and a lighter, you dropped to the floor before Jack’s body went up in flames.

\+ + +

You admitted this wasn’t how you wanted the hunt to end. Jack couldn’t fight the monster that had been growing inside of him for years, thanks to his real father. Travis, the hunter who tirelessly tried to stop the other man, ended up being the trigger that sent Jack over the edge, his one taste of human flesh that turned him. You tried yourself to somehow get through to Jack and help him realize there was a light at the end of the tunnel. But it didn’t get you very far. You let out a faint sigh as your eyes trailed away from the x-rays of your dominant arm. Somehow, thanks to your tumble from a second story balcony, which you changed the story to tumbling down the steps, the damage was severe bruising around your ribcage and upper thigh area. Nothing too serious. You knew it could have been worse, the doctor taking care of explained your arm cushioned the fall. If only the situation was easy enough to be just bruises and scrapes.

There was a soft knocking on the door, breaking your concentration away from your thoughts. You watched as the doctor peeked his head through with your clipboard tucked underneath his arm and a familiar face trailing behind. Dean had been the one who insisted on taking you to the E.R. after you were complaining too much about your pain. You noticed his head wound was bandaged up and cleaned. You ignored his changing expression as you looked over at the doctor. He walked over to a small countertop and placed down the clipboard. Out of habit, you reached for your good hand to slip a finger underneath the fabric of your shirt, but you winced at the accidental pain you inflicted on yourself.

“So,” Dean walked further into the room, his eyes trailed over to the x-rays. He softly whistled at the injury he wasn’t expecting to see. “What’s the damage here, doc?”

"Y/N here’s lucky. It could have been worse. I say from her x-rays we did, she broke her lower forearm bone, just below her elbow. Of course it’s nothing too serious, the bone should heal itself in roughly about four to six weeks. The splint is for added precaution, I don’t want that arm moving around too much. There’s no broken ribs or severe damage to the internal organs, just bruising that should go away on its own in the next week or so.” The doctor explained. You saw him write something down on a small pad of paper before ripping it off. “I’m prescribing you a painkiller that should help if you feel the pain becomes too much. Obviously I don’t want you to do any strenuous activity for the next few weeks until that arm heals. And take it easy on those stairs.”

You gave the doctor a smile before you grabbed the paper away from his hands. As you read off the medication, you heard him walk right out of the room, leaving you and Dean free to go whenever you pleased. You let out a quiet sigh and dropped your hand to your lap, unhappy with the fact your other one was in a cast and immobilized from the sling for added measure. You tore your attention away from the paper to look at Dean, curious to see if he was standing there with a disapproving look on his face, or perhaps he was cracking a smile from your unfortunate mishap. But he was looked more relieved, you furrowed your brow at him.

“Broken arm, I can live with. Serves you right for running off on your own like that.” Dean broke the silence with a tasteless joke that ended with you giving him annoyed look. You slowly jumped down from the examination table and tucked the note into your back pocket. As you walked over to where your jacket was lying, you started to try and somehow put it on. But it only ended with you becoming frustrated from not being able to do a simple task. Dean offered a helping hand by grabbing the jacket and draped it over your shoulders. His fingers lightly trailed down your arm, you pulled away when he tried grabbing your hand. “I’m sorry for being an ass back there. I know I said some pretty nasty stuff that I don’ t mean.” 

“It’s fine, Dean.” You muttered. “Things have been pretty stressful.”

You didn’t want to talk about it, this entire hunt had been more stressful on your mind than you realized. You began walking forward to the door, but before you could grab a hold of the door handle, Dean reached out and lightly grabbed your wrist. You let out a faint sigh as you looked over at him, wondering what had been so important. He let out a quiet sigh, his eyes rolling upwards for a moment from what he was about to say. “I don’t want you walking around hating me, Y/N. I know I’m an ass. And I know reputation isn’t exactly perfect. I’m too insensitive about things and I don’t mean to. It’s just everything’s happening all at once. You and Sammy, you guys are the only family I have left. No matter what, I stand by what I said about you. I really do  
”

Whenever Dean started rambling, you knew he was trying to apologize. Before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off by showing him the way you’d both enjoy. You stood taller and pressed your lips against his own for a moment, you leaned back and gave him a small smile. “Admit it, we both lashed out and said some pretty nasty things. I’m sorry myself. I really didn’t mean anything. It’s just…this hunt went south.” You admitted with a defeated sigh. “I thought we could have helped Jack. Not burn him to a crisp.”

“You tried. Sometimes that’s all we can do for people in this situation, Y/N. You can’t force people into doing the things you want.” Dean said. You narrowed your eyes slightly at him, wondering if he was talking about someone else, too. Before you could ask, the man changed the subject. “I don’t know about you, but I think we should head out of here. Sam’s probably worried.”

"Mmm, you’re right. Wait until he sees me.” You said, cracking a smile as you stepped out of the door Dean held open for you. The both of you began walking down the hallway where nurses and patience strolled past. You glanced away from the passing faces to look at Dean. “Of course, this is gonna be a pain in the ass. I mean, sleeping and stuff.” He nodded his head, half-listening as he continued walking down the hall. You decided to play around with him, your lips stretched into a smirk. “Don’t get me started on undressing and showering with this damn cast. It’s gonna be a pain in the ass. But I guess I’ll somehow manage.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure I can help with that, sweetheart.”“ You let out a giggle when you felt his breath tickle your neck after he leaned down to whisper that in your ear. You lightly punched him in the shoulder from his cheeky comeback, even though you’d expected it. He chuckled and wrapped arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side as you continued walking out of the hospital together.

\+ + +

Even though you had settled on the fact you couldn’t have helped Jack, you knew Sam was still upset over how things went. You sat in the backseat of the Impala with your eyelids growing a bit heavier, the painkillers the doctor gave you were starting to kick in. Dean had decided to head out on the road again, see where things would take the three of you. Silence really had been the only thing occupying all of you. The oldest brother took his gaze off the road for a moment to check on everyone, he noticed in the rearview mirror that you were content, exhausted from the day’s events. But it was his little brother that was having him worried. Dean looked back on the road.

“You did the right thing, you know. That guy was a monster. There was no going back.” Dean tried starting a conversation with the man, hoping he would have gotten him at least to crack. He had been fine earlier, but after getting into the car, things turned into a different story. He knew the both of them had shared some pretty heated words, too. The man adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “Sam, I want to tell you I’m sorry. I’ve been kind of hard on you lately.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dean.” Sam muttered with a quiet tone.

Your eyes wandered to the front seat, wondering what was going on. “It’s just that your, uh–your psychic thing,” Dean admitted his feelings, trying to be honest with his little brother. “It scares the crap out of me.

“If it’s all the same, I’d really rather not talk about it.” Sam said.

"Wait a minute. What?” You teased the younger man, raising a brow up from his answer. You tried easing the tension from the brothers as you adjusted yourself in your seat, wincing slightly from the accidental pain from moving too fast. “You want to talk? You, Sammy?”

“There’s nothing more to say, Y/N.” Sam said, brushing off your attempts. “I can’t keep explaining myself to you, Dean. I can’t make you understand.”

“Why don’t you try?” You asked him. “I know what you’re going through, too.”

“I can’t, Y/N. I doubt you even understand.” Sam admitted. Your face scrunched up in confusion, he let out a quiet sigh as he continued. “Because this thing, this blood  
it’s not in you the way it’s in me. It’s just something I got to deal with.”

“Not alone.” You whispered to him.

Sam let out a heavy sigh, his eyes lingered over to the passenger side window for a moment. He could himself in the reflection of the glass from how the moonlight hit the car. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. These power  
it’s playing with fire.” Sam said. “I’m done with them. I’m done with everything.”

“Really?” Dean asked, surprised hinted in his voice. “Well, that’s a relief. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it for you or Y/N. Or for the angels or for anybody.” Sam said, wanting to get his own voice out there. “This is my choice.”

Your lips stretched into a small smile from hearing the information that put your mind a bit at ease, happy that something right was happening. You let out a quiet sigh and leaned back in your seat to close your eyes. As you began to let your body relax, you couldn’t help but fixate on a thought. Once you get a taste for something good, sometimes it’s hard to let go. You opened one eye and looked over at the youngest Winchester, curious to see if he had the willpower. After all, he did think he was doing something right for all those months when you and Dean were gone. It might have been dangerous for him to continue, but the high was too alluring.


	5. Monster Movie.

It felt like the opening of a classic horror movie; through the clouded darkness, the Impala drove down a long and winding road, the crescent moon hanging above peeked through the storm clouds as they shifted about, thunder rumbled and bolts of lightning flashed through the sky. Your eyes drifted down from the backseat window as you shifted around the hardcover novel propped open on your lap, years of previous owners allowed the book to stand on its own. Your good hand handled a flashlight that illuminated the words of the story you’d been reading for a few hours now. Since you had been injured on the last hunt, a broken arm healing nicely in a sling, you were forced to sit a few cases out until the end of the month. Research aside, you were almost a free woman. Not sure what to do with yourself, you picked up an antique looking novel before leaving the town you’d been previously staying in before leaving to keep yourself busy. A classic tale you’d been yearning to read for years would do the trick.

While the story had begun to start picking up in fictional adventures, where the character was about to meet the face of the monster, your attention was brought somewhere else. You furrowed your brow when you listened to the radio. A suspenseful instrumental flew through the speaks, seeming to pair together nicely with the foggy forest back roads and thunderstorm that was brewing above. You shrugged it off as you began reading again, getting back to the part of the story where the main character was about to meet the monster. Dean reached out a hand to turn off the music, having had enough of this unusual genre.

“The radio around here sucks.” He mumbled. You quietly laughed from his comment as you continued on reading. Dean glanced over at his brother, who had been spending the past fifteen minutes overlooking the casefile you put together. Sam hadn’t said anything about agreeing with the hunt. His expressions were neutral, like he needed a bit more of a push. “Come on, man. Jobs don’t get much weirder than this, you know? Dead vic with a gnawed-on neck, body drained of blood, and a witness who swears up and down it was a vampire.”

“No, I—I agree.” Sam nodded his head, his voice almost monotone. “It’s a hell of case.”

Dean glanced away from the road for a moment to look at his brother. Another crash of thunder and lightning brightened up the car, showing off Sam’s expression that still hadn’t changed. “A little more gusto, please.” He urged, his right hand waved around in the air for effort.

Sam let out a quiet sigh as he closed the manilla folder and turned off his flashlight. “It’s just,” Sam admitted the truth about his hesitance to taking on a case. “The world is coming to an end. Things are a little complicated, you know.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t save the world, not today anyway. But what we can do is chop off some vamps’ heads.” Dean said, trying to get his brother to change his mind. Sam rolled his eyes, his head turned to look at the window for a moment. “Come on, man, it’s like the good old days. An honest-to-goodness monster hunt. It’s about time the Winchesters got back to tackling a straightforward, black-and-white case.”

“Have fun with that.” You said with a slightly bitter tone. You were a bit disappointed you couldn’t tag along on the adventure, knowing you’d be missing out on the sweet feeling of slicing off some sucker’s head. Dean eyes jumped up to the rearview mirror where the both of you looked at one another, you bit your bottom lip when he cocked an eyebrow up. He’d been teasing you for days about being a hazard on the hunt. In ways that only Dean would do. "If I can’t kill Dracula, might as well read about him.”

You put your attention back to your book as the brothers focused on the road ahead. Things might have started to feel normal again, but just like the main character in the beginning of the novel, he knew, deep in his gut, there was something dreadful waiting ahead for you all.

\+ + +

Pennsylvania was greeting you with open arms. The next afternoon you and the brothers headed to where the victim had been murdered, and it wasn’t somewhere dreadful or boring, you were in the middle of Oktoberfest, surrounded by endless amounts of beer and German culture. You adjusted your outfit before you were pushing open the backseat door, letting yourself out to take in the sight of tourists and workers roaming around the place. Shutting the door with your hip, you couldn’t help but subconsciously look down at your outfit, wondering if you buttoned up your blouse all of the way and kept your skirt straight. Getting dressed with one arm was a pain in the ass, but you weren’t going to sit this entire hunt out. You were itching to get back into the swing of things.

You and the boys abandoned the Impala back in the parking lot to start heading forward to the open iron gates where people wandered around freely, mingling with the workers that stuck out like a sore thumb in costumes. “We still got to see the new ‘Raider’s movie.” Dean said, breaking your concentration away from the sights around you.

“Saw it.” Sam said.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at the younger Winchester. “Without us?” 

Sam shrugged off your shocked expression, “You two were in Hell.”

“That’s no excuse.” Dean said, sharing the same amount of disappointment. But his attention was soon drawn away from the conversation as he looked around the area, his eyes spotted a vendor with something he wouldn’t mind having. “Big pretzel!”

Without a warning, Dean bolted for the stand. You couldn’t help yourself but look over at his little brother, you shared the same bewildered expression, yet, just seconds later, both of you started chuckling. You headed over with Sam after you saw his brother pay for a few of the pretzels, the perfect start to the late morning. You could feel your stomach growling when you held the food in your hand. As you took a bite, your eyes wandered upward when you saw a flash of blonde cross your eyesight. A young woman passed by, and by her outfit, she was one of the plenty of workers here. She greeted you all with a smile and said hello in German before heading off. While it might have been anything of ordinary courtesy, you glanced over at Dean from his tone of his flirtatious voice.

“‘Guten tag’ yourself.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You swallowed down your bite of the food as you shifted your gaze to where he was staring at. Of course, his eyes were wandering to the dresses the women were wearing around here. You reached up to take another bite of the pretzel, refraining yourself from making a comment. Sometimes you found yourself become agitated with things you didn’t know the answers to. Like where you and the oldest Winchester stood. Things had been very much different between the both of you since you arrived fresh out of Hell with more emotions and feelings be admitted. While his brother was distracted with something, Dean leaned over so the both of you were in whispering distance. It seemed his mind had been on other things. “Do you think they sell those little dress? Halloween is around the corner. And I bet you’d look…”

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Oh, nothing.” Your quickly mumbled, snapping your head forward to see that Sam was staring at the both of you. Dean straightened himself off, pretending the conversation that had unfolded never happened. Sam furrowed his brow, wondering why the both of you were acting so strange. You looked around for a distraction, trying not to discuss the relationship between you and Dean. The both of you might have had a rough patch back in the last hunt, but it was all in the past from how he’d been acting around you. It was simple flirtation here and there, a joke to make you smile, he had even been helpful when it came to dealing with this injury. You glanced around the park to see a sheriff talking to a couple, and by how his hand was pointed out, he was probably giving them directions. And giving you a chance to escape this conversation before it could turn awkward. “Looks like that’s our man.”

Nodding your head to the sheriff, you took another bite of the food before you chugged it into the waste basket, you chewed up the last remaining amount of pretzel you had before swallowing it down so you could talk properly. The sheriff turned his head as he placed his hands on his hips, he was fixated around the park to see how the festival was holding up. You gave the man a friendly smile when he came upon the sight of the three you standing there, and presuming from the formal ear, he’d gotten the assumption of who you were. “Are you the kids from the fed?”

“Yes. I’m Agent Valentine,” You introduced yourself first. You slipped a hand inside your skirt pocket to pull out your badge, flashing it to sheriff Dietrich before you waved a finger at the boys. “These are my partners Angus and Young. We called ahead of time about your, uh, problem.”

“Right, um,” Sheriff Dietrich’s facial expression dropped from the other conversation he had with you a few days ago. He glanced around the area to see if there were any witnesses around, not wanting this information to be leaked to the public right away. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t we talk about this away from the crowd, huh?”

\+ + +

The change of scenery turned into the county morgue where the victim had been placed. You stood back as you watched Sam open up the bottom freezer door for the sheriff, Dietrich leaned down and pulled out the dead body which had been lying on the cold metal slab with a thin sheet covering it up. The sheriff lifted up the fabric to show the victim’s face, he stood back and placed his hands on his belt. She seemed to have been almost peaceful, no signs of bite marks or traces of a struggle. You glanced up at him when he let out a heavy sigh.

“Marissa Wright, twenty-six, just up from Lockhard for the ‘fest. Terrible. Just terrible.” Sheriff said, shaking his head as he glanced down at the dead body. “It’s the last thing this town needs at peak tourist season.”

“Definitely the last thing Marissa Wright needed.” Sam said, subtly pointing at where the matter should have been focused on.

You looked back down at the body when Dean reached out a hand to move her neck, wondering where the marks could have been. You were expecting to find something that resembled at least an animal bite, vampires didn’t have the traditional canine teeth in the front of their mouth, a traditional theory seen in countless movies and novels, but what you saw on her jugular wasn’t what you were expecting. You eyebrows scrunched together from the peculiar marks just below her earlobe. And it didn’t look like an animal had bitten her. There were two circular holes with fresh bruising around the wound. “What the hell?” You heard Dean ask. It didn’t look like any sort of vampire attack you’d seen before—in the real world, at least.

“Yeah, you got me—I mean, this killer’s some kind of grade-’a’ wacko, right?” Dietrich wondered, you weren’t exactly listening to what he had to say. Your gaze wandered over to the brothers to see they were sharing the same baffled expressions. “I mean, some Satan-worshipping, Anne Rice-reading, gothic, psycho vampire wannabe.”

“Sheriff,” You spoke up. “In your report, you mentioned a witness.”

“Yeah, I wish I didn’t. But our witness insisted.” Dietrich admitted with a sigh. You raised a brow from his sudden shift in behavior. “That’s Ed Brewer. Not exactly what you’d call reliable.”

The crazy ones always were the most reliable, those were the people who believed in the real monsters everyone grew up to presume were fictional. And maybe there was a vampire out there who wanted to have a bit of fun, it all depended on how Ed described the woman’s attackers. Dietrich bent down to push the dead body back into the freezer before slamming the door shut.

\+ + +

You and the boys tracked down this Ed Brewer to the local pub, where he spent most of his days off from working to drink and linger by himself. When you stepped inside the place, you were bombarded with bodies wandering around the place. You somehow manage to dodge bartenders and customers happily drunk out of their mind for it being not even the afternoon. Letting out a frustrated breath, you thought people would have been considerate to someone like you, clearly it was going to hurt if a body accidentally bumped into your am. But you worked through the crowds until you caught up with the brothers, where they found an empty spot at the bar. You squeezed yourself between the boys and placed your hand against the wood. When you looked to see who the bartender was, you noticed that it was the same woman from before. A smile stretched across her lips when she glanced at the three of you.

“I remember you.” The woman said as she dried her hands with a dish towel.

“And I remember you…Jamie.” Dean glanced down at her nametag. “I never forget a pretty face.”

You grimaced at Dean’s behavior, but you cut it loose with a simple change of subject. “We’re looking for Ed Brewer.  
Jamie crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly becoming defensive from your tone. “What do you want with Ed?” She questioned you, wondering what this was about.

“Well, we are, uh,” Dean explained to the woman. You slipped a hand back into your pocket as you pulled out your badge again, showing off the fake credentials that looked just as real. Jamie glanced down at them for a moment before turning her gaze back up at the man. “Mr. Brewer was witness to a serious crime. We just—”

“Wait a minute. You’re a fed?” Jamie cut off the man. You nodded your head, putting your badge back into your pocket. She seemed surprised at the answer, at least, for Dean’s sake. “Wow, your partner doesn’t come on like a fed. Seriously?”

Jamie seemed more amused at the oldest Winchester’s behavior that wasn’t professional, but he had read it all wrong, and just like his behavior that never seemed to stop, you bit your bottom lip from what happened next. Dean leaned forward, he rested one elbow against the bar to come off more mysterious. "I’m a maverick, ma'am.” Dean said, his tone dropping lower. You looked over at his little brother, the both of you sharing the same expression as he continued on with this personia. “A rebel without a badge. One thing I don’t play by—the rules.”

You covered a laugh with a cough when you saw Jamie look at him with an amused expression, obviously she could see right through his attitude. Your lips drew into a smile as you placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, you looked over at Jamie. “That must be the concussion talking. He’s been a bit out of it since the last case we took. Took a pretty hard blow to the head.” You said, hushing your voice for an added effect. Jamie nodded her head, her eyes wandering down to the cast you were wearing. “Luckily all I got out of it was a broken arm. But to save you any more harassment from Maverick here, do you know where we can find Mr. Brewer?”

Jamie directed your attention to a small booth in the back, where you saw a man sitting by himself, you looked back at her and mumbled a thank you. The three of you headed forward to Ed Brewer, a man who seemed disheveled enough from his behavior alone. After introducing yourselves, you took a seat to hear the story about what happened. But Ed wasn’t exactly comfortable just yet to speak about the heinous night again. You watched as he nursed an enormous stein of beer, he needed at least five sips of liquid confidence before he slammed the lid shut. Ed wiped away any froth from his mouth with the back of his hand before letting out a sharp sigh.

“I told the cops everything I saw. Nobody believes me.” Ed said. You noticed right away the man like to talk with his hands, it must have been a nervous tick. “Why should you be any different?”

“Believe me, Mr. Brewer,” Dean reassured the man. “We’re different.”

Ed nodded his head, “I spoke the God’s honest truth, and now I’m the town joke.”

“Marissa Wright’s murder is no joke to us.” Sam said, slowly gaining Ed’s trust. “And we want to hear everything, no matter how strange it may seem.”

“We have a lot of experience with strange.” You added to give an extra push.

Ed stayed silent for a moment. His eyes flickered back and forth, he slowly nodded his head again, the words settling inside his brain, the reassure was just enough to bring his guard down. But he just needed one more sip. You closed your eyes when he reached for the stein again to take another drink. He took a sip before finally pushing it off to the side. Your nose scrunched slightly when you heard him burp, Ed pointed his thumbs up, ready to begin. “It was just after midnight. I just left here, and like I do every night, I cut through the park on the way home. At first, I thought it was a couple kissing. But she was…” Ed went on with his story, using elaborate hand gestures as he gave details. The man paused for a moment when he got to the part where he stumbled upon the active murder. He pointed against his neck, “Struggling too much. And this man, he was—well, he was biting her neck.”

You nodded your head, “Can you describe her assailant?”

“Oh, he was a vampire.”

“Okay, right. And by that, you mean—”

“You know, a vampire.” Ed hissed for an effect.

“Uh-huh.” You remained calm, asking one more time. So, he looked like—”

“He looked like a vampire,” Ed repeated the same answered. Luckily, this time around, he gave you more details that were helpful on finding out who you were dealing with. “You know, with the fangs and the slicked back hair and the fancy cape and the little medallion thingy on the ribbon.”

“Wait,” You realized what he had been hinting around, “You mean like a Dracula?”

“Exactly. Like a Dracula. Right down to the accent.” Ed said. His face lightened up in happiness when you gotten the literary reference he’d been trying to make. You nodded your head, asking him what the attacker had said. "You know, something like,” His voice shifted so he was now speaking with a Hungarian accent, almost perfectly mimicking the one associated with the fictional vampire. For an added effect, he drew an arm upward to shield his eyes. “‘Stay away, mortal! The night is mine!’” You and the brothers stared at the man, not even you could stare at the man like he was normal. Ed dropped his hand to his sides, he cleared his throat, returning his voice back to normal. “You do believe me, don’t you?”

Your lips stretched into a faint smile, you nodded your head slowly, trying your hardest to be polite with the man. All of you excuse yourselves from this conversation, knowing you’d had enough of this. You gave one more polite smile before you pushed yourself out of your chair, following behind Sam after Dean make a quick getaway to the bar. You let out a breath and leaned against the bar, you looked over at the boys to see how they were processing this new, useless information.

“So, what do you think?” Dean asked the important question. “Goth, psycho vampire wannabe, right?”

“Definitely not our kind of case.” You admitted with a quiet sigh.

“Agreed. But who cares? Room’s paid for, and it’s Oktoberfest.” Dean said, looking at the brighter side of things. You all decided to take a seat at one of the booths, you slid into a spot next to Dean after he went in first. “Come on, guys. Beer and bar wenches.”

“Word of advice,” You turned your head to look at the man, “Speaking for my kind, I’m pretty sure women today don’t react well to the whole 'wench’ thing, Dean.”

Dean decided to prove you wrong, he leaned forward in his seat and called out to Jamie, getting her attention as she worked from behind the bar. “Hey bar wench, where’s that beer?”

“Coming up, good sir!”

You scratched the back of your neck, trying to cover up the annoyed eyeroll from what just happened. Yet you turned your attention to the man again when he spoke up. “Come on, Y/N, Oktoberfest.” Dean whispered, you licked your lips as you looked away.

“There you go.” Jamie came over to the booth with a pitcher of beer for Dean, she set it down next to him before standing back. She placed her hands on her lips and looked over at Sam and you, her lips stretched into a smile. “What can I get you two?”

“She’ll have what I’m having. But he doesn’t drink.” Dean ordered for you, but he cut off his brother, barely giving the man a chance for himself to enjoy some free time. Instead, Dean turned the conversation into a funny joke. “He’s a Christian scientist. Doesn’t even take aspirin. He’s a real drag at stakeouts.”

“Ha ha. He think he’s so funny.” You remarked at Dean, giving him a smirk before looking over at Jamie. “We’ll have a round if that’s not too much to ask. Since we’re not taking this case, I think we can kick back and have a little fun.”

Jamie raised a brow, “Is it too weird for you guys?”

"Not weird enough.” You said, she let out a quiet laugh before she nodded her head, walking back to the bar where she began working on your drinks. You leaned back in your seat and looked around the place, your eyes spotted something you’d been dying to need. “Oh. I gotta go to the ladies’ room. Be back in a few.”

Lightly knocking against the wood, you scooted out of the booth before making your way through the crowd, heading off to the bathroom, leaving the brothers alone. Dean leaned back in his seat, his gaze kept on you as he brought the pitcher to his lips to take a drink. When he saw you disappear from sight, he looked back at his brother, only to see Sam was staring at him with an expression that was a little bit amused and a dash of confusion. He didn’t say anything, he just exhaled a breath and turned the other way, letting a silence fall between the both of them for a moment. But when his brother spoke up, he quickly looked back over at him.

“Man,” Dean said something right out of the blue. “It’s time to right some wrongs.”

Sam’s brow scrunched upward, “Come again?”

“Look at me. I came back from the furnace without any of my old scars, right? You know, bullet wounds, knife cuts, none of the off-angled fingers from all the breaks.” Dean said, he wiggled his fingers around for an added point. “I mean, my hide is as smooth as a baby’s bottom, which leads me to conclude, sadly…” He trailed off for a moment, but from what he said, Sam wasn’t sure if he should look at his brother a bit funny or start laughing. “That my virginity is intact.”

“Wait,” Sam stopped his brother, ‘What?”

“I have been re-hymenated.” Dean said with a grin.

“Re—” Sam tried to repeat after his brother, but it only ended up him laughing from the obvious thought of his brother being a born again virgin. The man had a list of past lovers, a sexual history that couldn’t have been so easily erased. “Please. Dean, maybe angels can pull you out of Hell, but no one could do that to you.”

“Brother, I have been re-hymenated.” Dean said. “And the dude will not abide.”

Sam shook his head, not sure why he was even going to ask this question. “All right, dude. And who’s gonna be the lucky lady?”

Dean was about to take another sip of his beer, but when he heard the question, he stopped for a moment. He looked at his brother with a funny expression. “You’re kidding, right?” Sam wasn’t when he shrugged his shoulders, suddenly all so curiosity to whom it would be. Dean looked around the pub for a moment, when he saw the coast was clear, he returned his attention back to his brother. “Y/N, obviously. Since we got back from the pit, I’ve been trying to think of ways to repay her for everything she’s done for me. And then it dawned on me—she hasn’t even done it yet. I thought it would be romantic this way for her. She doesn’t have to deal with all that awkward fumbling around, trying to figure out what we’re doing. It’s a win-win, brother.”

“Y/N, huh? Really?” Sam asked, he’d changed his tone from what he heard. The man he was sitting across from was different, for someone who has sprung back from the dead, he’d been more into finding someone to pick back up the old habit. But he noticed, back before they went to Hell, when Dean made the confession, he was happy to see the man stay true to his word. Yet he wasn’t going to let the older man off the hook so easily. “So, if you’re so sure, then what’s up with you flirting with Jamie?”

"What? I was just being friendly.” Dean said, not sure what the big deal was about. Sam raised a brow from his brother’s excuse. The other man rolled his eyes, he took another drink of his beer before setting it back down. "Jamie’s cute and all, but she’s not Y/N. Nobody is like that woman.”

“Who’s not like me?” The brothers accidentally jump up in surprise from the familiar voice. You glanced back and forth at them, wondering what was going on, but when you watched them shift around in their seats, trying to mumble an excuse, your lips stretched into a small smile. “Are you guys okay?”

Sam seemed to have found the question a bit too funny, you saw his lips stretch into a smirk, his dimples popped out on his cheeks as he glanced over at his brother. Dean sat there in silence as he continued to nurse his beer. “I’m exhausted.” Sam said. He got up from his spot and stood next to you, the pointed a finger over his shoulder to the exit. I’m gonna go back to the room and get some sleep.”

“Okay. See you in the morning.” You said. You gave him a smile before you stole his spot right across from Dean, the seat was still warm from his body heat. When you weren’t looking, Sam gave his brother a smirk and a small chuckle before walking away. You leaned back in your seat and rested your hand against the table. “I guess it’s just the two of us now. What’s on the agenda tonight, Maverick?”

“I still owe you that second date we keep talking about. Since you picked this case that I thought was gonna be an easy one…I’d been doing a little digging.” Dean said. You raised a brow, curious to see what he had in mind. “There’s an old drive-in theatre playing old black-and-white horror movies. Thought it might be fun to take Baby and see the real Dracula on the silver screen at midnight. What do you say?”

Your face dropped in disappointment from what you heard him propose, before you could tell him the plans you’d made earlier, your attention was drawn away from the man you looked up to see a familiar face. Lucy, the bartender you’d bumped into on the way to the bathroom, came back with the round of drinks you’d ordered from before. You smiled at her quickly before looking over at him. “Uh, Dean, I want you to meet Lucy.” You introduced the woman he’d seen around in the bar, he gave her a friendly smile, not sure what was going on, until, you explained how you knew her. “She was one of best friends back in the day before she moved away. Oh, crap. Where was your dad’s new job?”

“Ohio, Y/N. Jeez. For being one of your first friends in elementary school, I’m kind of hurt you don’t remember.“ Lucy teased you with a playful nudge to the shoulder. "I see you’re just as clumsy. Remember when you fell off the jungle gym after you did that dare?”

Your lips stretched into a smile, “Yeah. Broke my wrist. Hell of way to introduce myself.”

“I can see your confidence lead you into a good career choice. FBI, not to bad.“ Lucy said with another growing smile. "I gotta say, I still owe you for that broken wrist. We still on for tonight with Jamie?”

You bit your bottom lip as you looked over at Dean, wondering if he was going to okay with the sudden change of plans. Dean looked up to see the both of you were staring at him waiting for some kind of answer, he nodded his head, not sure what was going on. Lucy gave you both a smile before she excused herself, getting back to the tables she’d been neglecting. You leaned back in your seat and grabbed your beer. With a sigh of content, you looked over at Dean with a small smile, hoping he wouldn’t have been too upset on the change of plans.

Dean watched the woman from the corner of his eye, “You never mentioned her before.”

“Oh. I honestly haven’t seen her since we were fifteen. She was one of my first friends I made after I moved. We lost contact after she moved herself sophomore year in high school. I almost forgot about her until I accidentally ran into her. We got talking and we’re going out for drinks tonight with your bar wench—who, turns out, is actually pretty nice. She’s treating Lucy for a drink after her first day is over.” You said. You reached out your free hand to grab your pitcher of beer, but your eyes lingered upward when you noticed Dean grow silent. “It’s only for one night. I mean, we can postpone the date for tomorrow, right?”

Dean nodded his head and smiled, deciding to enjoy the quiet moment together. You shared the same smile as you set your drink down and began a conversation. During the duration of the time spent at the bar, never once did you once notice Dean’s attention linger on the Lucy, because for some reason, he didn’t have a good feeling about her.

\+ + +

It seemed things were beginning to look grim enough for you to stay. You and the brothers caught the story of an animal attack that took place not too far out into town, a man was attacked in his car after spending a romantic night out with his girlfriend. You were thinking that it could have been more than just a work of a wild animal, something with opposable thumbs dragged him out the driver’s side window after breaking the glass to tear him to pieces. You tracked down his girlfriend at the festival, she’d been young, probably just turned nineteen, with a very timid and almost too casual attitude from what she witnessed. She gave a brief explanation of the story she’d remembered. But it’d been slow from the nervous habit you found pretty quickly quickly to distinguish. Her hands were wrapped around the biggest size of cup she’d gotten from a food stand before sitting down to talk to you. She loudly sipped her drink through the straw, getting the last bit of her soda.

Your lips stretched into a polite smile when you looked over at her, your gaze slowly drifted away from the woman as you looked over at the brothers, both of them had been silent, but the looks were easy enough to distinguish. Anna-Marie put her cup down to the table and swallowed her drink, finally finishing up her story. “An then it just,” She stuttered out her words for a moment, she shrugged and looked up at you. “It just tore Rick into little pieces.”

“Ma’am, we understand how hard this is,” Dean said. “But can you describe the creature?”

“Oh.” Anna-Marie mumbled from the question. She reached for the cup with both hands to take a quick sip, making sure it was just as loud from before, when she was confident enough to give her answer, she put the cup back down to the table. “It was a werewolf.”

“A werewolf?” Sam repeated the woman. He looked away from her for a second to look at you and his brother, wondering if this could have been the real deal. Anna-Marie nodded her head when the man looked at her again for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah. With a furry face and the black nose and the claws and the torn-up pants and shirt,” She said, giving you a description you weren’t expecting to hear. You adjusted yourself in your seat when she told all of you this with a straight, completely serious face. For an added bonus, she leaned forward in her seat to give one more detail. “Like from the old movies.” 

You’ve heard a lot of crazy things during your time here, even during your hunting days, but things was slowly becoming a case you weren’t sure who was to blame. A werewolf wasn’t the typical monster you’d saw in the movies and vampires didn’t act like Dracula. Either a human was having fun with playing dressup, or some monster was trying to bring fictional masterpieces into the real world. You glanced over at the brothers when they tried speaking, but they were just taken back as you were from this information. You looked over at Anna-Marie, “Okay, so,” You trailed off for a second when you were still baffled from the story, she innocently blinked at you. You cleared your throat, finishing your sentence. “Thank you for your time.”

Anna-Marie nodded her head as she reached for her cup again, you saw her bring the straw back between her lips as she leaned back in her seat, she stared off into the distance, loudly slurping away her drink. You let out a quiet sigh and glanced over the brothers when they got up from their seats, you followed after them. Now that you had gotten her side of the story, it was time to visit her boyfriend, wondering if his dead body could tell the same version of this tale.

\+ + +

“What the hell is going on in this town?”

Dean asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. You trailed behind the brothers after arriving back to the coroner’s office to find Rick’s body where it was still being held in one of the freezers. Sam looked at the tags placed on the door, wondering where the dead body was being hidden, it took a minute of searching until he found it in the middle. He opened up the door and pulled out the long metal table, you noticed it was still in the body bag. You watched as Sam pulled down the zipper, opening up the bag to take a close examination of Rick’s body. But what you saw inside wasn’t what you were expecting. You quickly turned your head away from the foul sight that laid inside, the smell wasn’t helping either. There wasn’t much of him left, what the cops could salvage was a cavity of a chest torn into pieces, the rest of the skin covered up bone and internal organs.

“Damn!” Dean’s hissed, you nodded your head in agreement from his reaction.

“All right. Whatever did this wasn’t a psycho wannabe.” Sam’s voice brought your attention back to the dead body. Your nose wrinkled upwards when you saw him take out a pencil from his suit jacket where he began poking around at the body inside. He grimaced at the ribbon of remains he pulled out for a moment before flicking them back in. You leaned in a bit closer, wondering what he discovered. “Look at those bite marks. Right down to the bone…and deeper.”

“Strong enough to tear a healthy man apart limb from limb.” You noted. “Could be a werewolf.”

“Yeah, except, look.” Sam said, correcting your theory. The tip of the eraser pointed at the chest activity that was ripped wide open. “The heart’s still there in one piece. They never leave the heart behind.”

“Thus I reiterate,” Dean mumbled. “What the hell is going on?”

 

“Well, I was hoping you kids could tell me.” The familiar voice brought your attention away from the body, you looked up to see Sheriff Dietrich with an envelope lying in his hands. He headed forward to the three of you. “I just got a rush job back from the lab on those fibers we found on the body.” He opened up the envelope to pull out a clear plastic bag where you noticed a clump of hair sitting inside. The answer the sheriff gave you wasn’t what you were expecting, or wanting, to hear. “Canine. Wolf hairs.”

Your mouth parted open slightly from the news. Your gaze was torn away from the sheriff as you looked over at the boys, who had been sharing the same expressions you’d been feeling just moments ago. This case was beginning to become more complicated than you hoped. You might be dealing with two creatures here, and still, there were no leads to figure out what was going on before someone else could get hurt. You closed your eyes and took your good hand to your forehead from the sudden pressure, you let out a long sigh as you tried to rub away the stress. "I’m getting a headache.” You muttered to yourself.

\+ + +

You reached for another fry from your plate as you glanced around the bar, watching people enjoy dinner like yourself with their fellow company. You and the brothers were still trying to figure out what was going on here, but with little possible answers, you were beginning to grow frustrated from the evidence of supernatural behavior you’d never seen before in real life. What you would really love right now was to get out of these formal clothing and heels, give yourself a nice hot bath before topping off the evening with the book you’d been wanting to finish. You’d seen a lot of strange things in your life, most of them you heard from movies and books, but the creatures you saw were far different from their literary origins. Vampires didn’t have pointed canine teeth or talk in Hungarian accents. And werewolves weren’t little furry creatures. You popped another piece of food in your mouth, subconsciously eating your stress away from the case.

“I don’t know, man. Looks like we’ve stumbled onto a midnight showing of ‘Dracula meets Wolf Man.’” Dean said. He reached for his nearly empty glass of beer. “Is that it?”

“I don’t know. I mean, Wolf Man seems real enough.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced around the room. “It makes Dracula seem a little less impossible, I guess.”

“Yeah, but werewolves don’t grow hair. That’s just a myth.” You mumbled. When you could feel the stress beginning to start settling in your shoulders, you reached up a hand to massage away what tension you could before dropping your arm back down to your lap. “So, what? We’ve got a vampire and a werewolf monster mashing this town?”

When you saw a familiar face coming forward to the table, you stopped the conversation for a moment before Jamie could hear about things she didn’t need to know about. You gave her a friendly smile when you noticed she’d came over with refills you didn’t even ask for. “Looks like you guys are staying a while.” She said. “I heard about Rick Deacon.”

“Yeah, this case just got weird enough for our department.” You mumbled with a small sigh.

“Well, beers are on me.” Jamie said, knowing that it could have been the least she could do. She grabbed the empty glasses from the table and turned slightly to start walking off, but she stopped herself. “Y/N, Lucy and I had a lot of fun last night. And I don’t know, but since you’re stuck on desk duty, we were wondering if you wanted to hang out again tonight. I get off at midnight.”

“Yeah, last night was a lot of fun.” You agreed with her, nodding your head. You could feel a smile stretching across your lips from her offer. All though it had been fun hanging out with people with a last name that wasn’t a Winchester, you knew there was research to be done. And perhaps you’d been thinking non stop about that second date with Dean you missed out on last night. “But I have a lot of paperwork to do. And with another dead body, things are starting to look grim. Tell Lucy I’m sorry. Maybe we can catch dinner before we leave?”

Jamie understood and nodded, she headed back to the bar, leaving the three of you alone once more. You reached over a hand to grab your drink, when you heard Dean speak, you turned your head to look at him, wondering what he was about to say. “You’re not going for another girls’ night out?” He curiously asked.

“Nah. It was fun seeing Lucy, but we’ve got research to do. And,” You took a sip of the drink before putting it back down to the table. “I noticed there was some good stuff playing tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out in my room tonight to have a little movie marathon.”

Dean contained his happiness with a nod, “Should I bring your favorite snacks?”

“Oh. I wouldn’t even let you in without it, Dean.” You nudged him with your shoulder, giving him a playful wink from him picking up on the old traditions you and him used to share. Nothing like snack foods and old movies to spend a stressful night. You continued to eat for a moment in silence, but a thought crossed your mind from the other night. “Have you guys seen my wallet? My real I.D. and stuff is in there. I had it back in Philadelphia. Now it just vanished into thin air.” The brothers shook their head, you let out a quiet sigh. “Well, I’ll find it later, I guess. Now if you excuse me.”

You jumped out of your seat and headed for the bathroom, suddenly having the urge after downing all the previous liquid. As you gotten away from the table, you looked over your shoulder to see Dean, your lips stretched into a smile before you looked back at where you were going before you could accidentally bumped into someone. Dean could feel a grin coming across his lips when he found the plan he’d been hoping for finally come into place. He grabbed his beer before letting it linger in his grip for a moment, he looked over at his brother, who was sitting there with an amused expression on his face. All of this was too good not to ignore.

“Hey, you think this Dracula could turn into a bat?” Dean curiously asked his brother. Sam’s face dropped from the question he wasn’t expecting to hear. “That would be cool.” Dean took the cup to his lips, taking a long sip of his beer before pulling away, not realizing he gotten himself a moustache of foam on his top lip, his mind fixated on the night he’d start planning ahead for.

\+ + +

Things had turned out almost exactly like you hoped it would. You squeezed in some research in the rest of the late afternoon before night fell into effect. You were torn away from the hunting world when you heard the knock on your motel room door. Outside stood Dean with a plastic bag filled with the existential food you’d both need in order to kick start the marathon you had planned for the night. Both of you were still awkward around one another when you called this a date. It had been fun the first time, and within an hour, things were becoming natural. You and him caught the opening scene of The Mummy, a classic movie from the early nineteen-thirties. It felt nice to sit on the bed with him, your head resting on his chest and the feeling on his arms wrapped around your waist. You almost felt normal. But before things could get good, you accidentally fell asleep halfway through the movie, exhaustion from going to bed so late creeped back up on you. And the hunting lifestyle wasn’t too far behind, either.

You woke up a few hours later to see you were alone in bed, the TV was still going, now playing some movie you didn’t recognize. You were a bit disappointed from the fact Dean was gone, wondering if it was because you were more boring than you realized. You got up of bed and looked around for your phone, wondering what time it was, you winced at the sight of it being just after midnight. But your attention was quickly caught off guard when you saw a new voice mail. It took a moment before you were putting the phone to your ear, wondering who left you a message at this time on night. When you heard the familiar voice, your lips stretched into a smile.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s me. I was just calling to let you know Sam and I left for a few hours. Not that I wanted to leave your pretty face, but duty calls.” Dean’s voice came from the other line, you could feel a small giggle coming out from what you heard him speak in the quietest voice before he became normal again. “If you happen to get this before I come back, call me. We could really use your help to figure out what’s going on here. Things are getting…weirder.”

\+ + +

After calling Dean to figure out what was going on, you headed back to the festival area after agreeing to meet there. It was only a few minutes from where the motel was and you didn’t mind enjoying a midnight stroll by yourself. You walked inside the abandoned park with your arm tucked inside your pockets from the cool breeze that passed by. The only sounds you could hear over the quietness was your shoes echoing off the cobblestone pavement and the soft chirping of crickets coming from the distance. The entire park was abandoned, everyone had left home for the night after locking up the different shops and restaurants, but luckily the park was still open to the public.

You strolled through the place wondering where the tavern was again. Things were a bit different in the dark, and without one of the boys here to help guide you, it was hard to navigate. The only progress you were making was in your mood, which was leading to frustration when you continued walking through the endless amount of buildings that were starting to look the same, none of them had the wooden sign you were hoping to see. The thought of Dean picking you up at the motel wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, you pulled out your phone to call the oldest Winchester, hoping he was here around. For some reason, this place was giving you the creeps. The fog and empty streets wasn’t exactly helping the area of this place. You felt like someone, out in the far distance, was watching you. You shook your head, blaming the feeling on the movies you watched before falling asleep. But you barely punched in the first three digits before you stopped.

There was something off here. You couldn’t deny your feeling of danger anymore. Closing your phone, you shoved it back in your pocket and turned around, hoping the feeling of someone being there was just Dean, trying to play a joke on you. Perhaps it was all in your mind. But when you noticed the shadowy figure standing across from the other side of the street you froze in your spot. For a moment you could only make out the black silhouette, you took a step closer to see the shadow matched your actions, you squinted from what you saw. It was someone Ed Brewer who had claimed to have killed Marissa Wright—Dracula. Everything about him was in the description you were given. Slicked back hair and the same formal outfit, even when the stranger spoke, you heard the familiar Hungarian accent. A faint smile spread across from your lips, not sure if you were being polite to the fictional vampire, or if this was amusing. Either way, there was no way in hell you were sticking around to find out what happened next.

You turned around on the heels of your feet and ran fast as you could out of here, somehow your tried planning an escape route of this place, but with adrenaline kicking inside your body, all you were focusing on right now was trying to keep your breathing quiet. But your shoes were a dead giveaway to where you were heading. You sucked in a deep breath and looked over your shoulder to see that you were alone for a moment, you didn’t stop, you took a sharp turn and headed down another path, you could lose him that way. Only you stumbled to a halt from what you did. You cursed underneath your breath from the brick wall you were now forced to share at. Somehow your plan backfired after you accidentally came onto an alley that lead only to a dead end. You nervously swallowed and slowly turned around to face the entrance, praying you were alone, only you could feel your heartbeat start beating even faster from who saw, Dracula himself.

“I have watched you many nights from afar.” He was speaking in that annoying accent with the kind of over dramatic flare you’d expect. Dracula drew his cape closer to hide his face, as if he was trying to master the element of mysterious. You took a step back when you saw him come even closer to you. As he continued talking, he was only adding fuel for your desire to get out of here before one of you got hurt. “My passion knows no bounds! You are the reincarnation of my beloved, and I must have you!”

You bumped into the brick wall after he was towering over you, giving you a chance to look more in detail of who he was. You could feel your eyebrows furrowing together from how specific he looked—it really looked like he was right out from the book. “Right. Good luck.” You gave him a friendly smile, hoping from what you were about to do would work. Without even a second to pass, you quickly kicked your leg up and swung him right in the privates, and just like you thought, Dracula dropped to the pavement, not expecting that move from you.

You rushed out of the alleyway from the cheap blow that you knew was good enough to keep him down until he recuperated from the unexpected pain. As you began thinking of ways to get out of here, you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder, wondering if he was long gone, but to your dismay, he was back to his feet and running fast. You could feel your heartbeat start racing faster from what was going on. There was some creep in a costume chasing you down in an empty park with no possible way of defending yourself if he somehow got his hands on you. And what he said about seeing you before, what did he mean by that? Was he stalking you? You tried your hardest to make yourself run faster and thinking of places where you could find a safe haven until it was all over before Dracula could make you as his next victim. 

You’d been so caught up in your thoughts and getting away from the monster behind you, that when you accidentally bumped into a body, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise before you were stumbling backward. For a moment you thought he caught up to you, but relief flooded through you when you saw it was Dean, his facial expressions quickly became written with concern from your stressed demeanor and panting breaths from running so fast. You tried explaining what was happening as you looked over your shoulder, where he glanced away to see the monster he’s thought was nothing but a joke. But when Dracula was standing there right across from the both of you, Dean pulled you closer to his chest and wrapped his hands tighter around your waist, realizing you’d been being chased by this monster.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean muttered underneath his breath in complete surprise.

“You should not use such language in the presence of my bride.” Dracula warned the younger man.

You could feel Dean’s body starting to tense up from what he heard, his jaw tightened from the uneasy feeling he was getting from the man. He heard you softly scoff underneath your breath from Dracula had said before you were walking backwards, wanting to get away from him as far as possible. Dean stepped forward to confront the monster, he was quiet for a moment as his lips stretched into the amusement factor of what was going on here. “Okay.” Dean mumbled with a sarcastic tone. Without a warning, Dean drew back his arm and punched the man directly in his face, knocking him down for a moment. As the hunter stepped back for a moment, he brushed off the familiar ache in his fist and waited to see how Dracula was going to react. He knew there was going to be a fight, there was no denying Dean wasn’t hesitant to kick this guy’s ass, it was just he wasn’t expecting for Dracula to stay in character.

Dracula brushed off the punch as it was nothing, he stood back up and snarled at the hunter, his upper lip curled upwards, showing off his pearly white fangs that weren’t the normal set you’d seen on vampires before. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, Dean tried his hardest to throw another punch at the vampire, but it was no use. Dracula easily blocked it before roughly grabbing a hold of the man by his throat, pushing him backwards until he was pinned against the brick wall. Dean tried his hardest to fight the other man off, but his mind suddenly became preoccupied with other things. "Y/N, run!” Dean warned you, knowing you were the one in danger here.

You were a bit hesitant to leave the man alone to fight, but with the condition you were in, there was no way you could help without causing even more trouble. Dean watched from the corner of his eye as you disappeared into the darkness, and hopefully, to safety. His attention was brought to the creature he was struggling to break loose from. “You have no choice in the matter, Mr. Harker.” Dracula threatened the man. “Mina is mine!”

Dean struggled to fight off the man when he felt his neck being twisted off to the side, showing off a perfect view of his jugular. tried his hardest to fight off the creature, but pushing him away wasn’t working, so Dean did the next best thing before those fangs could go into his neck. He reached up a hand and dug his fingernails into the cartilage of the mask, thinking it was just some latex the man was using for a costume. But when he heard the painful hiss coming from Dracula, he stepped away and lightly pressed a hand against his wound. Dean looked to see that he was holding something that felt too familiar. When he realized what he was really dealing with, Dracula went off running, Dean let out a frustrated sigh, he pushed himself off the wall and began running after the wannabe vampire.

The gap between them was too long. Dean tried his hardest to run fast as he could after the shapeshifter before he could crawl back to wherever he came from. Both of them raced down the empty streets, trying to see who see who could win this fight. The problem was Dracula knew this place better than Dean. He cut through an alley and headed forward to a large gated fence that was locked up. It wasn’t a problem for Dracula. He jumped high as he could until he grabbed a hold of the iron bars before pulling himself higher up and jumped over, landing safely on the ground. Dean tried his hardest to shadow the shapeshifter’s move, but it was too late. The hunter could only watch as Dracula got away, driving off into the darkness on his stolen scooter.

\+ + +

A shapeshifter with a personal fixation on you and some creepy obsession with horror movies. Now there was a reason to drink. You and Dean met back up after he unsuccessfully tried to subdue Dracula. Both of you managed to get yourselves into the locked up tavern for safekeeping after calling Sam to tell him what was going on. Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes trailed to the front entrance where you heard it quietly open. The tall shadow you saw on the floor was enough to make you realize it was Sam before you saw him walking forward to the table you were sitting at. You tipped your drink at him to acknowledge his presence. He gave you both a worried look.

“Hey. You guys all right?” Sam asked, you nodded your head.

“Yeah, I think so. And I think I know what’s going on.” Dean said. He turned around in his seat and leaned down to grab the dish towel that had been sitting next to him. Dropping the cloth to the table, he let his little brother discover what the secret prize was inside. “Part of it at least.”

Sam reached out a hand to move the towel closer to him where he then lifted the fabric up in order to see what was underneath. The man’s face automatically scrunched up in disgust from what he saw, the torn up flesh of an ear. You couldn’t help but look back at it for a moment, only to quickly look away in discomfort. “Uh, the ear part?” Sam corrected his brother.

“Ripped it off of Dracula’s head. Touch it.” Dean nodded his head at the flesh, Sam quietly scoffed at the command, thinking the man was trying to be funny. But when he noticed his brother was being serious, he looked back down at the ear again. Hesitantly, he reached down his pointer finger to the flesh to take a small poke at the torn flesh, but it only took a small touch before he stopped acting squeamish. His facial expressions changed, Dean noticed his brother’s reaction. “Feel familiar to you?”

Sam’s face dropped when he realized what it was. “Oh, man.”

“The skin of a shapeshifter, just like St. Louis. And just like Milwaukee. Of course this one’s all holding buckets of crazy. Oh, and,” Dean reached a hand inside his suit jacket pocket, almost forgetting about the medallion he pulled off the shifter. He handed it over to his brother for him to examine the prop. “This must have fallen off during the fight. Look at the label on the ribbon.”

Sam examined the fabric for a moment until he flipped over the ribbon before he stumbled upon a familiar label he saw earlier this evening, back when he and Dean were examining the mummy. Things were starting to make more sense now. “It’s a costume rental.” Sam said.

“All three monsters—the Dracula, Wolf Man, and the mummy—all the same critter,” Dean noted the pattern before coming to the conclusion you heard before Sam got here. “Which means we need to catch this freak before he ‘Creatures from the Black Lagoon’s’ somebody.”

“Okay, so, the stagecraft, the costuming—it’s like he’s trying to reenact his favorite monster-movie moments, right down to the bloody murders.” You said, trying to piece together what was going on. You let out a breath and leaned back in your seat, shaking your head from the question that crossed your mind, hopeful that Sam could have an answer. “Wait a second. Who the hell is Mina, then?”

“Mina?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah.” Dean said. “That’s what he called Y/N. And he called me Mr. Harker.” 

 

“Jonathan Harker?” Sam asked again, you and Dean stared at his brother. The man broke into a small smile from what he was about to explain. “They’re characters from the movies and the novel you’re reading, Y/N—Mina, Dracula’s intended bride, and Harker, the finance that stands in the way. Seems like he’s fixating on you, Y/N, like he sees you as his bride.”

“Wow.” You mumbled with a sarcastic tone. “Lucky freakin’ me.”

“But to fixate on you,” Sam seemed to have come to a conclusion you didn’t want to hear, only adding to the strange factor of what was going on here. “my guess is that the shifter has to have seen you before or been around you.”

“Y/N, has anybody strange approached you since we’ve been here?” Dean asked you with a serious tone. “Somebody that has a taken specific notice in you that you’re not telling us about?”

“Guy, ge’ve been in town for less than three days. And if you haven’t noticed, when isn’t there something that wants to kill me?” You asked them with an annoyed tone, you rolled your eyes for another added touch. You reached a hand to take another drink, but as you began thinking about a conversation you had last night, you looked up at the boys, there was a sudden shift in your mood. “Wait a second. There is Ed.”

“‘Ed Brewer’ Ed?” Sam repeated after you, surprise in his tone.

And I sort of did a bit of a background check on him earlier today.“ You explained with a soft tone. You wrapped a hand around the glass and began twirling around the last bit of liquid still inside. "He moved here about a month ago. Jame said he here almost every night until closing. But yesterday, when I was waiting for them, I swear he was staring at me the entire time I was there. I thought it was nothing. But it seemed he was asking about me to the girls after we interviewed him. Lucy made a joke about him having a crush on him. She said it was kind of cute because I was the only one who believed in his Dracula story. But, you know, I don’t think it would make sense if he—”

“Did you find out where Ed lives?” Dean asked, cutting you off.

“No. But he works at the old movie theater.” You said. “I think he’s the projectionist there.”

Dean didn’t even have to say anything to his little brother, he just pointed a finger over his shoulder, directing the man to take care of the shapeshifter himself. He was confident Sam could do it on his own. “Take care of Mina?” Sam asked his brother, you bitterly chuckled at his joke.

You watched as Sam began walking forward to the exit, but before he could make his escape, you stopped him. “Have fun, Van Helsing.” You called out to the man. You leaned back in your seat and raised your empty glass at him. “Might not be far in the book, but I do remember Mina does help kill Dracula. But I think you can handle the monster all by yourself.“ You gave him a playful wink when you caught sight of Sam’s smirk at your playful jab. You reached for the bottle as he made his exit out of the building, leaving you and Dean alone once more.

\+ + +

“So?”

“So.”

You could feel the ends of your lips curl into a faint smile at the response given by the man sitting across from you. The both of you had been left in a quiet silence after Sam left, you weren’t sure what kind of conversation would be good enough for this kind of situation. You’d been preoccupied for a small moment about how you landed into this type of predicament, but it was just the sight of Dean’s presence that washed away any doubt of things turning south. He gave you a charming smile when he caught you staring at him, not sure what it was about. You dropped your gaze to the table and shifted around in your spot, leaning forward in your spot to reach for the bottle to pour yourself another drink. Dean lightly pushed away your hand before ushering you back down, offering to it for you. Mumbling a thank you after the glass was full, you brought the cup to your lips, but never took a sip, a conversation finally started from Dean.

“Sucks that our little date was cut short. But this is a bit more romantic, you know?” Dean said as he began pouring himself another refill before putting the bottle back down. You curiously raised a brow, urging for him to continue. “I think this is the part of the movie where the huntsman gets the reward from the beautiful damsel in distress.”

You bit your bottom lip from his remark, trying your hardest to keep a smirk from spreading. “Well, when Sam gets back I’ll be sure to thank Sam for saving my life.” You gave him a comeback that he wasn’t expecting. A laugh escaped from your throat when you saw Dean’s facial expressions drop, the noise echoed through the empty tavern. You put your glass down on the table and got up from your seat, you took a large step and sat down right across from him. Dean reached up his right arm and innocently draped his arm over the seat until his hand rested on your shoulder. You scooted yourself closer from the act, enjoying the simple embrace and privacy with him. “What do you have in mind, Mr. Harker?”

Dean shook his head from your nickname you teased him with, but his actions were being fought with the smirk spreading across his face. He urged you closer, taking advantage of the fact both of you were alone, with the possible threat being taken out early thanks to his brother, it seemed this hunt could be wrapped up quicker than Dean thought. “Oh, I don’t know.” He pretended to act casual about the matter as he began leaning closer, just enough until you could smell the lingering aroma of mint and whisky. Somehow it worked for him, it drew you closer to him. He dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper. “Maybe we could pick up where we last left off.”

You would have loved nothing more than to enjoy the moment of quietness with Dean, away from the monsters, away from everything that has been brewing over the past few weeks. But your mind was drawn back again to the question you asked yourself when the both of you went on the first date. Mumbling the man’s name underneath your breath, you placed your hand on his chest to unwillingly push him away. You scooted away until you were at the edge of the seat. When you opened your eyes, Dean was staring at you with a concerned look, wondering if he’d done something wrong. You let out a quiet sigh as your eyes rolled upwards, hating the way your overthinking was ruining a perfectly good moment, but you needed to know. You licked your lips and turned back around to stare at the man, the question and all of your thoughts came stumbling out of your mouth.

“What the hell is going on, Dean? I mean, what are we doing here.” You couldn’t help yourself but ask the dreaded question that had been lingering around in your mind since being reunited with the man. He’d been doing things, saying words that made your head spin with the rush of excitement. But it wasn’t making sense. You didn’t want to go into something because it was fun for a short time, you’d been dying to do this for way too long. “Things are moving way too fast. But in a good way. If we continue on with this, I just need to know you’re doing this for the right reasons. Not because it’s something you thought would be fun. Or because you’re lonely. We’re really risking a lot here.”

“I know that, Y/N. I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I didn’t want to. But like I said before, I’m not gonna do anything you’re not comfortable with yet.” Dean said in a reassuring voice. “I promise you.”

The words should have been enough to keep your mind quiet and enjoy the moment with him, but you couldn’t but linger more. Things weren’t clear as you wanted them to be. “You don’t get it, do you? I think I’m falling for you, idiot.” The words came stumbling out of your mouth, and when you realized there was no turning back from this, you continued on. “It’s been on my mind for years now. I want to be with you because you make me feel safe and happier than I’ve been in such a long time. But I don’t want you thinking I’m not the old Y/N. She’s long gone. And I’m okay with that. I just need to know you want to do this for the long run—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Dean cut you off by showing off his affection he’d been doing for the past few weeks now. You were take back from the kiss he threw at you, but after a second, you closed your eyes and began sinking into the moment. There was another reason why you loved Dean, he was one hell of a kisser. All though you weren’t happy about him cutting you off mid sentence, he pulled away after a moment, leaving you speechless, because you were out of breath. It caused a small, almost wobbly smile to spread across your lips. No one had ever made you feel so much passion in just one little kiss. He leaned back in his seat, knowing that it was time to talk about this.

“There’s no one I would rather be with, Y/N. You and I have been to hell and back—literally.” He chuckled slightly at the comment he absent mindedly said. Dean paused for a moment before he continued speaking.“I’ve been trying for so long to get myself to open up and admit what you just said.I guess I was more afraid of what might happen if we went further. I mean, if you couldn’t tell, us Winchesters aren’t exactly blessed in keeping people we love safe.”

“Yeah, but you make up for it in looks.” You put a small joke into the conversation, smiling when you noticed a fraction of one began spreading across Dean’s lips. “Look at it this way if it makes you feel better. You did lose me. But death has a funny way of not sticking around.”

“Guess I got lucky, huh? It’s almost like we were meant to stick together.” Dean mumbled, you shrugged your shoulders from his theory. When you were children, back when you were about to move away, he made you a promise to never lose one another, even if months or years went by, you would always find each other. Funny how it always worked out that way. “But I’m be honest with you. Even when I knew I was going to Hell, that wasn’t even a good enough kick in the pants for me. Something kept holding me back. I’m not scared about seeing where this could go, Y/N. I’m more worried about not being good enough for you. And pushing you into a kind of relationship you won’t be happy with.”

"Yeah. You might be one of the selfish and screwed up people I’ve met.” You accidentally started off your response a bit roughly, Dean furrowed his brow from what you said. You let out a quiet laugh before you continued on. "But it’s your selflessness that I love—how you just keep going across the country, looking for some horrible nightmare to fight. I love your obsession with the Impala and how upset you get when I make fun your music. There’s so many things about you that I love about you. And I wouldn’t ask for any other person to spend almost every waking moment with.”

Dean reached over and grabbed ahold of your hand, his fingers wrapped around them, compared to his size to yours, he swallowed them into his grasp. You and him stayed like that for a small moment of silence before you were curiously looking at him, wondering what he was about to say. I’ll be honest, these last few years, I started thinking about everything, you know, it started sort of weighing on me. Of course that was before…you know.” Dean cleared his throat as he stopped for a moment. You looked at him, wondering what he was going to say. “When I came to after being pulled from Hell, things have been different. And I’m okay with that. This entire process has made me realize I need to save people. Like it’s my mission. But…there’s still something that’s been bothering me. Why I can’t fully wrap my head around dealing with these angels. And thinking that God has a personal fascination with me. It doesn’t make sense.”

You raised a brow, “What’s bothering you now?”

"Why would he waste his time pulling me out and not you, too?” Dean brought up a question that had you letting out a sigh as you began rolling your eyes. But as he continued on, you stopped, wanting to hear what he was about to say. “He shouldn’t look at you because of what other people did to you. None of that’s your fault. You’re a good person—better than I ever have been. You always try to do the right thing. You sold your soul for me and Sam. If that’s not a good enough of a get out of Hell card, I don’t know what would be.“

"It’s all in the past, Dean. You know we would do anything for each other, including Sam.” You said, giving him a warm smile. Both of you had the same feelings, you could feel your stomach flutter with delight at the thought of him wanting to see where this went, but from what he talked about, it reminded you of the new journey that laid ahead for the three of you. “I think we should take things slow for now, just until things get back to normal. That doesn’t mean we can’t go on dates and do other things. But I just don’t want to announce it to the world just yet.” Dean nodded his head in agreement, you were happy that was out of the way, giving you a happy piece of mind for now. You slowly drew your eyes down his face, your mind was starting to wander to other things. "I suppose I shouldn’t forget about what you did for me. You did save my life from that shapeshifter. I think it’s only fair to show you how thankful I am.”

Because this was the part of the movie where the damsel confessed her love to the hero who saved your life. The both of you were smirking at one another. You gave him a playful wink before you were leaning forward, shadowing his actions by pressing your lips against his, finally sharing the moment you’d been hoping forward. You always loved this moment with him. There was something about his little touches and kisses that made you go crazy. The flutter inside your stomach blossomed, making the rush of excitement run through your veins. As the kiss began to become deeper, the both of you slowly fumbled until your hand was wrapped around his neck, his hands resting on your hips. You had been getting lost inside the kiss, you didn’t hear the floorboards squeak or how bottles across from the bottles clank together. It was the sudden brightness of someone turning on the lights that pulled you and Dean away.

You squinted at the light and tried covering your face, all you could make out was a shadowy figure from the cracks of your fingers. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the light so you could drop your hand down back into your lap to see who it was. A rush of embarrassment went through your systems. when you realized it wasn’t Sam who was standing behind the counter, but more of an employee who caught you making out in their workspace. “Holy crap. Oh my, God. Y/N.” It was Lucy, who suddenly seemed personally mortified form being caught red handed with a bottle she was about to steal for personal reasons. And not the fact you broken into here without an explanation just yet. “Guys, I’m—I’m sorry. I…I thought you had paperwork.”

“Uh, things happen?” You tried your hardest to think of an excuse that could help explain what was going on, but you were cornered. You gave her a smile as you let out a sigh. “Sorry. We’ve just had a pretty weird experience tonight. We were here on a case, but—”

“You know what? Let’s keep this between us. I came to borrow a bottle. I kind of got something back at my place…” Lucy tried explain, you nodded your head and smiled. “Anyway, uh, you guys look really busy, so I’m just gonna get out of your hair. I won’t tell if you don’t?”

“Seriously, Lucy, it’s been a crazy night.” You said, feeling bad for ditching her from before. It wouldn’t hurt to at least explain what was going on before she left for the night. “Why don’t you let your special guest sit for a little while? Stay for just one drink.”

“Yeah.” Dean muttered, he looked back at the woman. He gave her a smile. “Stay for a drink.”

Lucy graciously offered to fix all of you a drink from the unexpected meeting. You took the clean glass from her with a thank you, she then took a seat across from you and Dean. When all of you were comfortable, you told her about what was going on. You explained about the body that was discovered not too far from here. For an added touch, you told her about a possible “suspect” who could have been conducting these movie murders. The more you went on talking, the faster you finished your drink until all that remained was an empty glass. You got to the part of the story of how you tracked down the shifter, but with your luck, you’d gotten cornered. Lucy listened to every word and nodded her head, the ends upf her lips stretched into a frown from what she heard.

“Oh, that sounds awful.” Lucy said. she reached out a hand to lightly pat yours for comfort before resting her head again on her palm. “Y/N, honey, are you okay?”

“Oh, I am fine. He didn’t even touch me. Dean, he just,” You tried speaking normally, but your words were accidentally coming out slurred as you let out a lighthearted giggle. The effects of the alcohol must have start settling in your system because you were feeling much different now. You were lightheaded and you felt like your senses were slowing down. But you continued on with your story, wondering if the feeling was going to pass. “Blew in like a knight in shining armour and fought him off.”

“Well, I didn’t actually fly.” Dean corrected you with a growing smile, amused from the dramatized version of your story about him. “But I’m sure it seemed that way at the time.”

“It was really, really something.” You admitted with a lazy smile. Lucy chuckled at your reaction of the situation, she listened while grabbing the napkin she’d placed underneath her drink and folded it half, you noticed she’d blotted her lipstick a lot. You blinked a few times as you furrowed your brow, wondering why it was so hard to keep your eyelids open. Or at there was suddenly three of her spinning around. You rubbed your face with your hand, hoping that would do the trick to get yourself feeling normal. When you heard Dean speak your name, you forced yourself to look at him with squinted eyes, his figure was in and out of focus. “Hmm?”

“So, Dean, are you like a black belt or what?” Lucy asked the man a question, bring his attention over to her. Dean turned his attention away from you and to to the woman he was sitting across from. For a moment he was completely fine, but suddenly, there was a shift in his behavior and movement. He was starting to feel sluggish and exhausted, the half empty cup he’d drank was starting to move around before he got it to focus. “Well, I guess they train you to fight at the academy or whatever.”

“I don’t…” You tried speaking, but your voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I don’t feel good so good.”

Dan looked over at you from what you said, something wasn’t right about that sentence. He saw that you were barely able to keep yourself conscious, that was enough to raise a red flag for him. He had a feeling who they were talking to wasn’t old friend. He glanced over at Lucy, who sat there with a curious look on her face, still waiting for her answer from him.

Dean never got around to that. Instead, he leaned over the table and used every ounce of his energy to draw his arm back before punching the woman directly in the jaw, making her tumble backwards to the floor. You could feel yourself being pushed to your feet as Dean stepped in front of you, realizing what was going on. You tried asking him what he was doing, but your attention was being drawn somewhere else. Suddenly the dizzy spell became too much for you to handle, you closed your eyes and stumbled backwards, you were out of it before your body even dropped to the cushioned seat.

“Y/N?” Dean called out your name, he quickly looked over his shoulder to see that you were passed out, unresponsive to his worried tone. He tried his hardest to keep himself standing as he looked down at the woman crouched on the floor. Lucy wasn’t the woman you’d thought she was. He watched as she easily pushed her fragile face back in, she hadn’t transformed too long ago. Dean forced himself to push through the grogginess as he leaned on the tale for just a moment. “What did you put in our drinks?” He demanded to know, the shifter only smirked at his attempts.

He wasn’t going to let the taunt bother him. Dean smashed the empty bottle he grabbed against the table so the ends were pointed. He quickly looked back at the shifter with the weapon. “That’s all right. I’ll skin you myself, you son of a bitch.” But the words only remained a threat. Dean blinked a few times as his body began to wobble back and forth. Knowing that he couldn’t fight it anymore, his body dropped to the ground, unconsciousness creeping into his mindset. He could barely see the shifter getup from the floor and walk forward until she was standing over his body.

“And…scene.”

\+ + +

It seemed your monster movie wasn’t going to end up with a happy ending just yet. You were brought back into consciousness when you noticed your surroundings felt foreign to you It didn’t quite creep into your mind that things were wrong just yet. You thought for a second that you had too much to drink, maybe you were back in the motel resting after your unexpected blackout. But when you opened your eyes, that’s when reality threw itself at you. This wasn’t the motel, or any place you’ve ever been to. You quickly pushed yourself to a sitting position on the king sized bed you were lying on. You blinked a few times when you realized your vision was still a bit blurry, but as you glanced around the room, you knew something was wrong. It was like you stepped into a different time period.

You were quick to notice the stone walls and cathedral style windows, even the furniture was outdated for modern taste. You almost felt like you’d stepped away from the real word and landed yourself into a movie set from the timeless and grand looking interior design. But when you began recognizing the similarities, where you might have seen this before, you knew what was going on. You pushed yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the middle of the room. You winced from the feeling that began to pound inside your head. The shifter must have been drugged you, which would explain what was going on here. Who you saw wasn’t really wasn’t your friend, it was him posing so you could fit more into the role he wanted you to be. Lucy was Mina’s best friend in the novel. How could have you been so stupid not to notice the similarities before? It’d been over ten years since you even saw her last. Whenever you saw old friends out of the blue, something strange always followed. This shouldn’t have been any different.

But there was no way the shifter could have known about your past, or her. You’d only been in town for a few days, the shifter had been living out his fantasies far longer. You began pounding on the thought of how he knew who you were. And why he was so fixated on you. As you looked around the room, you stumbled upon an object lying on the nightstand, where you noticed a white gown hanging across from the bed. You took a step forward reached out a hand to lightly run your fingers down the fabric, it was pure silk, and if you had to be honest, quite pretty. But your attention was drawn to something that seemed so familiar. You bent down and pushed away the ends of the dress to see something you’d been searching for almost a week now. Your missing wallet. You furrowed your brow as you lifted it up, only to see there was more disturbing things below. There was a manilla folder with all sorts of paper sticking in there calling for your attention. But before you could see what was hiding in there, a familiar Hungarian accent made you jump out of your skin.

“You wake.” You quickly turned around on your heels to see him standing across the room. The shifter had changed back into Dracula, he wasn’t your old best friend anymore. He was the monster he’d been playing for God knows how long. You sucked in a deep breath and straightened out your shoulders, trying to present yourself as confident when you saw him coming forward. He reached out an arm and gestured to the dress you’d examined before. “The gown—it suits your beauty. Please, put it on.”

"Where the hell am I?” You questioned the shifter. “What have you done with Dean?”

“Harker is resting elsewhere.” Dracula simply answered. He was still viewing you both as the fictional characters he’d assigned you with earlier this evening. “Please, put on the gown and you may dinner. We are having pizza.”

“What?” You asked in a baffled tone. You were thrown off from what was going on here. Shaking your head, you looked away from the dining area he’d set up for the both of you and onto the shifter that was starting to make you feel uncomfortable. You reached up an arm to lift up the wallet, you demanded answers. “What the hell is going on? How did you get this?”

“You and I are very much alike, I could sense it when we first met one another not long ago. It was your passion for the classics that drew me to figure out who you were. I thought I would never see you again after that moment we shared together.” The shifter explained what his motives were, you furrowed your brow from what he was saying. “My longing to see your beautiful face has drawn me into doing this I am not proud of me. Please, forgive me.”

You began thinking about where you had last used your wallet, it took a moment or so of pondering before you could feel your face drop, the bookstore. You’d spent almost a half n’ hour debating with yourself about which books would have been worthy enough to keep while you were traveling on the road. A friendly stranger had lured you into an innocent conversation about books that slowly turned into a discussion that lasted longer than you realized. He’d been the one who pushed you into reading the Bram Stoker classic after making a remark about how the book changed his life. You thought it was sort of silly at the time, but when you when looked back at the shifter, it was all making sense now. He did all of this because of some sick fantasy.

“You stalked me, that’s what you did. You dug into my personal life, found out I had a friend named Lucy and went on with your freakshow of a fantasy. All of this is because of, what, some little coincidences and a friendly conversation?“ You hissed at the shifter with such anger in your tone. You weren’t done speaking when the pieces were coming together by yourself. "Marissa Wright was just for fun, huh? Something to get yourself in the mood. But you killed Rick Deacon was because I was gonna leave town. You needed a reason for me to stay.”

“I believe everything happens for a reason, Ms. Y/N. When I saw you once more, I knew it was meant to be. I needed to know if you were the one—the Mina I’ve been searching for.” Dracula tried making his actions sound so innocent. "Harker is not the man you deserve, my dear. You deserve someone who understands the woman who you really are. I can give you the happy ending you deserve. You are the Mina I’ve been searching for. Together we could be—”

“Stop calling me that! I am not Mina, Dean isn’t Harker! And you’re not Dracula.” You were throwing your words out with a venomous tone. “If you want to continue on playing the monster, fine. Because you seem to forget that every single one of these movies end the same. The damsel gets saved by the hero again after he kills the monster. Unless…I kill you first.”

“The gown.” Dracula tried remind you. 

“No. I’m done playing your stupid game. This has gone on far enough.” You mumbled as you threw the wallet to the bed. “Let me out of this creepy place you’re keeping me against my will. Or, I swear, I will fillet your skin off. That is, of course, if Harker doesn’t gets here first.”

“Put on the gown!” Dracula had enough of you trying to take control of the situation. You could feel yourself jump a few inches in the air from the sudden shift in his tone, it was loud enough to take you off guard. You fell silent as you nervously swallowed, knowing well enough you’d stuck a nerve in him. “Do as I say. Or perhaps Harker will find his stay here shorter than he’d like. Just remember, this is my movie. You will do what I say. And I will change the script to my liking.” 

Each case you worked on, shapeshifters were always the worst kind of monsters, dragging you farther into the darker side of life. The first two you had faced ended up being the reason why the brothers were now legally pronounced dead after stumbling upon one who was a serial killer and another that was greedy. The one you were trapped with was all sorts of crazy. You weren’t sure where this was going to lead, but it wasn’t going to end up with Dean being dead. Even though you didn’t know where he was, you hoped he was somewhere safe. You turned around in your spot and looked at the dress. A frown stretched across your lips. Why did you have to be cast as the damsel in distress? And where the hell was Sam?

\+ + +

You smoothed down the wrinkles of the gown you were forced to wear, all though it’d been a struggle to put on yourself, there was no way you were going to let him touch you. It took longer than you wanted, but your clothes were crumpled up on the floor, abandoned until you could find away out of here. You searched around the room to see if there was anything to defend yourself, but nothing good enough seemed to catch your eye. You tried fighting off the idea that Sam wasn’t going to figure out what was going on here. What if he wasn’t even back from hunting down the first lead? What if Dean was really hurt and he wasn’t telling you? You’d been so caught up in your own personal thoughts, your attention was broken away when you heard him speak up.

“I-I scared you. You’re the only one I don’t want to scare.” You could barely hear him from across the room, but this was the first time you’ve heard his voice, not the accent that you grew you hate just from the sound of it. You looked away from the spot on the floor you were staring at to look at the man. His entire demeanor had changed. The person you were staring at wasn’t a fictional character, but more of the real personality he’d been hiding this entire time. He was almost afraid of saying the wrong thing again after he lost his patience. “I used to love the movies.”

“They aren’t real.” You said with a calm tone, hoping to make the point clear enough so he could snap out of this fantasy. “You can’t make them real.”

The shifter moved around in his spot until he was now facing you again from across the room, he was still hesitant to come near you from what he’d done. The look on his face was easy to detect the pain and suffering he’d been through for so many years, this was the part of the movie where the monster confessed how he came out to the way he was. “‘Real’ is being born this way. Different. 'Real’ is having your dad call you a 'monster'—it’s the first time you hear the word—and he tries to beat you to death with a shovel. Everywhere I ran, everywhere I tried to hide, people found me, dragged me out and attacked me, called me a 'freak,’ called me a 'monster.’”

You blinked from the things you were hearing, taken back at the gritty details of his childhood that would have never guessed. It was almost like Frankenstein’s monster, the townspeople hunting down the creature because they didn’t know how to handle something that wasn’t normal, they could only attack and try to kill it before he killed them. Creatures you’d hunted, even humans, don’t always have a streak of evil inside of them, It can be the years of pain, torment and heartache to make them the bloodthirsty killers. The shifter seemed to forget that what he was doing wasn’t right. Sure, it was normal to find comfort in fictional worlds, that’s why books and movies were such popular things among people—they got lost in the stories that were more exciting from their own lives, or they found empathy with the characters, feeling some sort of connection they could relate with their own personal lives, making them believe they were never alone. The shifter took this idea and held it close to heart.

“Then I found them.” His eyes seemed to light up from the fictional monsters he’d been pretending to be for so many years now. He began taking small steps forward to you as he continued talking with such passion. “The great monsters. In their movies, they were strong. They were feared. They were beautiful. And now I am like them. Commanding. Terrifying.”

You shook your head, knowing there was something else he was forgetting.“ Lonely.” You added.

“Was lonely. Now, I—” He reached out and slowly tried to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. You flinched backwards before he could even do what he thought was right, he quickly pulled back from your reaction. But he tried redeeming himself with a soft smile. “I have you.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe you’re lonely because you kill people?” You asked him.

“Or I kill people because I’m lonely.” He assumed another direction in your theory, only making you let out a quiet sigh from the conversation. You were trying your hardest to be empathic with him. But it was beginning to grow harder from his attempts at trying to play the monster. You opened your mouth to speak again, but there was something in the distance, a noise that echoed from the other side of the wall that captured both of your attention. It was almost comical of how the shifter easily forgotten about his speech about being powerful and commanding. Because when he looked over his shoulder, his voice was timid and quiet. “Did you hear that?”

You fell silent as you began trying to hear any sort of noise that could help determine there was someone else in the house. It was the faintest sound of footsteps, but it was enough for you to determine that it could have been one of the boys looking for you. And like a real damsel in distress, you ignored the possible dangers ahead of what you were about to do, but you needed to let them know you were in here instead of wasting time on other things.

You began shouting their names on the top of your lungs, the noise echoed through the room, but it wasn’t helping you, it was upsetting the man you’d been trying to at least communicate with. His temper had gotten the best of him when he realized you were about to make this complicated, turn this situation to the one every monster movie ended with, him dead. Before he could stop himself, he did the only thing that seemed reasonable enough to stop you from ruining this moment. He quickly reached up and backhanded you right across the face. It was enough force to knock you down where you stumbled to the bed. He nervously swallowed when he noticed you were lying there, not responsive after a moment of silence.

\+ + +

Dean struggled to get himself out of playing the role of Frankenstein’s monster. He woke up to a different place that looked like it could have been a mad scientist’s basement layer. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He found himself strapped to a wooden table, the restraints that kept him down were too much for him to burst out of, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to stop. Dean tried several more times, using the freedom and privacy to advantage, but when he heard the distancing echoes of footsteps, he quickly stopped for a moment. Someone was coming. He began thinking that the shifter was back to finish what he started, but when he saw a familiar face, relief flooded through his system. Sam cautiously walked down the stone staircase and looked around to see if anyone was around. His brother must have used that big brain of his to figure out what was going on. When he got near the bottom, Sam’s attention wandered over to the older man, and from the obvious state, he wasn’t the creature Sam had been looking for.

“Oh, thank God. Just in the nick of time.” Dean muttered with relief. He saw his brother grab the iron crowbar before heading over to help get the straps free from his body. “That guy was about to Frankenstein me.”

Dean slid to the ground after becoming free from the bounds, yet his attention was drawn downwards from the different outfit he was wearing. His brother began snickering at the sight of the man dressed in the traditional German outfit they’d seen around Oktoberfest. Dean frowned and pulled at the fabric, wondering where the hell his suit went, and if this was the shifter’s way of making him out to look like an idiot. He looked up when his brother was staring at him with a grin, obviously finding the wardrobe change a little bit too amusing. “Hey there, handsome. Wait until Y/N gets a load of your new look.” Sam made a joke, taking the opportunity to harass his brother. Dean wasn’t amused, he pointed a finger at his brother and hissed for him to shut up. Sam rolled his eyes, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver knife before handing it over.

Now this was the part of the movie where the hunters save the beautiful damsel in distress from the monster. Since Sam didn’t find any evidence of your whereabouts upstairs, the next logical step was to head further around the basement level of this place, wondering if that is where you could be. The brothers stopped for a moment when they came across a wooden door, all though it looked heavy, both of them waited to see who was gonna break it down. Sam looked over at his brother, but the man only gestured in arm, giving him the opportunity to have a bit of fun. The man gave his older brother an annoyed look before putting his attention to the door. Knowing that time couldn’t have been wasted on a petty argument, Sam took a step backwards before he swung a foot upwards, using all his force to break down the door. But it seemed too easy from what he thought it was going to be.

With one kick, Sam was stumbling forward after his foot got caught in the wood, the loud echoing noise of the door hitting the floor, the noise traveled down the dark and empty hall. Sam looked over his shoulder and nodded his head to the new discovery, “Let’s go.” He took the lead and began walking down the hall after getting his foot out of the splinters and broken wood, his brother followed behind promptly after. Both of them began wandering down the hall, looking for any sort of doorway that could lead them to a new destination of where you could be, finding the shifter could even be better. All it took was traveling down the hall until they found something they were looking for, a new door. This time they weren’t going to come in bursting through the door.

Sam cautiously opened up the door, the hinges squeaked loudly as he slowly walked inside the room with the gun pointed out, ready to aim if something were to jump out at them. He examined around the empty room to see that it was almost set up like a movie set, too much detail was put into setting up this place to make each room like a scene of the classics. Sam’s attention was drawn away from the interior when he noticed you were laying on the bed, and from your current state, he hoped you were just unconscious. He began making his way forward to make sure that you were all right, putting his guard down for just a moment, but it seemed to have been the wrong move on his part.

He trailed across the room, but barely made it halfway through before he felt someone roughly halt him to a stop, he could feel a grip around his jacket as he began to be yanked backwards. Then, as if he didn’t weigh anything, he was being tossed into the air, his body roughly landing into the concrete walls. He thought it was going to end it pain, but the material was nothing more than flimsy wood to make the illusion of something more grand. Sam fell to the ground after breaking through the wall, exposing the real part of the house. But the blow was enough to knock the wind out of him, rendering him a moment to recuperate from the unexpected attack.

“You will never be Van Helsing!” The shifter was back at his role of playing Dracula as he began speaking in the familiar Hungarian accent. All though he thought for a moment the character which killed Dracula was down, he’d almost forgotten about the other man, but his footsteps gave him away. The shifter looked over his shoulder just in time to see Dean headed forward to try and take him down, but Dracula was faster. He easily gotten the upperhand in the fight, punching and dodging the ones Dean tried squeezing in, but he was pinned down after the shifter roughly took a hold of him by his throat. “And you, Harker, now you die.”

Dean wasn’t going down that easy, with one easy punch to the gut, he was stumbling backwards, free from the clutches of the wannabe Dracula. “How 'bout you shut the hell up?” He muttered to himself, finding this routine a bit overused by now.

As he began thinking of options of how to kill this creature, Dean’s eyes lingered away from the man, they dropped to the floor where he noticed the abandoned gun his brother had accidentally dropped after the surprise attack. But before he could even think about putting that plan in action, it seemed the shifter realized what Dean was about to do. Dracula quickly punched the man right in the jaw, with the right amount of force, he was stumbling to the floor. Dean tried shaking off the pain and getting himself to focus again, but with the shifter was tapping into other ideas. He hissed at the hunter with his arms stretching backwards, the familiar pose Dracula used before taking a bite of his victims, Dean noticed the pearly white fangs for an added effect. But before anyone could make their move, the sound of gunshots rang around the room, catching both of them off guard. The shifter froze in his spot, realizing that the two bullets in his chest weren’t ordinary ones, instead, they were silver, the real weakness for this Dracula.

It wasn’t Sam who had jumped into save the day from impending doom Dean was about to face, instead, the person who was holding the smoking gun was you. You somehow managed to lodge two bullets straight into the shapeshifter’s chest, not bad, considering at the fact you were working with only one decent arm. You’d been nothing happy when you saw the man wounded enough to cut his life short after he’d made this case more complicated than it should have been. But even with him bleeding out, the the shifter was squeezing out the dramatics once more. You dropped your hand to the side, rolling your eyes from how he was looking at you, shock written in his expression from the move you pulled on him.

“It was beauty that killed the beast.” The shifter mumbled to himself, knowing this was the part of the movie where he’d dreaded the most. He began stumbling backwards as he reached out a hand, in his last moments of life, he was still clutching to the idea that you were the character he’d longed to have. Your face scrunched up from what he said next as he dramatically fell to into a chair. “No, Mina, do not weep. Perhaps this is how the movie should end.”

You watched as the shifter sank deeper down into his seat, his body becoming limp as he accepted the way of how things were meant to be, and with a soft sigh, he closed his eyes. You could feel a sigh of relief escaping you from the creature finally dead, not because of the boys, only thanks to your own quick reflexes. But you could feel the adrenaline that gave you a kick start was starting to wear off. A pounding headache was starting to settle inside your head. You forced yourself to keep going, you opened your eyes to see Sam was walking off his own injuries as Dean got up from the floor. You looked at the both of them to see if they were okay, but when you saw that you weren’t the only one had a wardrobe change, your lips were stretching into a grin.

“Guten tag, handsome.” You teased Dean, knowing what he was wearing wasn’t only humiliating to him, but sort of made him boyishly adorable. Dean frowned from your comment as Sam began chuckling again. You opened your mouth to say something, but you stopped in your spot, suddenly feeling like the room was spinning around you again. You furrowed your brow and sucked in a deep breath. “Oh. Drinking on an empty stomach and whatever the hell that freak gave me must still be in my system. Because there are about…”

All though the shifter might have been dead, drawing a conclusion to this cliched movie, there was still one more scene that needed to be played out. The happy ending. You couldn’t help yourself when the dizzy spell turned worse, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and without much of a warning, your body began falling backwards. But before you could hit the floor from your fainting spell nobody could have predicted, Dean quickly reacted, managing to step forward with his arms drawn out, where you landed in his arms.It took a moment before he was now holding you, bridal style, and while he began worrying if you were all right, Dean looked up when he heard his brother snickering from what just happened. He gave his brother a glare, Sam raised a brow and grinned to himself.

“Let’s go, Prince Charming.” Sam said, he walked over at patted his brother on the shoulder. “I think Sleeping Beauty’s had a fun night saving our asses.”

\+ + +

You could feel yourself giggling like a schoolgirl when you felt his hands drift down from your waist, his touch feeling more ticklish that you’d thought. His lips were stretching against your own from your reaction. Both of you stood in the middle of your motel room the next morning, your bags were packed and with Sam where he was forced to do the grueling task of loading up the car. You and Dean were having a bit of fun, enjoying the happiness of the moment before it was time to hit the road again, where things would have to go back as normal, no relationship talks, date nights or make out sessions. You deepened the one you were having with him, your hand reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, Dean rested his hands on your hips. The both of you were enjoying the moment so much, you barely noticed someone lightly knocked on the open door before they spoke, announcing their presence.

“Am I intr—” Sam barely could finish his taunting question, Dean lifted a finger up at his brother, silencing him for a moment. The younger man crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the both of you pull away after a second, you sucked in a deep breath before looking over at Sam. When you noticed he was standing there, you could feel a tint of a rosy pink began to spread across your cheeks from what he saw. His lips stretched into a grin. “So, guess this really is a movie. The guy finally grows a pair and gets the girl. About time, if you ask me.“

"Nobody did.” Dean muttered at his brother. You rolled your eyes and laughed at the bickering remarks from both of the brothers. You excused yourself from the room, remembering a small task you needed to do outside. Before you exited, you quickly gave Dean another kiss before patting him on the chest, you headed out, leaving both of the men alone. Sam watched you disappear into the Impala, when he saw that you were a safe distance away, he looked back over at his brother. Dean broke out into a lazy smile, happy to the ending he’d only could have wished for. “Feels good to be back on the job, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does.” Sam admitted with a content sigh.

“The hero gets the girl, monster gets the gank—all in all, happy ending,” Dean’s lips stretched into a faint smirk as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “With a happy ending, no less.”

Sam rolled his eyes from his brother’s subtle remark. “Real classy, Dean.”

“Relax. Slow and steady is how Y/N wants to take things. And I’m gonna respect that. All I’m saying the shifter man had a point, you know? It would be nice if life was movie simple.” Dean said. “All though, if I was turning life into a movie, I wouldn’t do this 'Abbott and Costello meet the monster’ crap.”

“Yeah.” Sam agreed. “I know what you’d pick.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Porky’s II.” The sudden voice coming from behind them sent the brother’s straight out of their petty argument with one another. You stood behind them with a grin stretching across your lips, you even began laughing from seeing them both taken back from your answer, and how you even managed to sneak up from behind with warning them for the second time during this trip. Dean opened his mouth to try and deny the claim, but no words came when he realized you were right, he huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes, you smirked at his reaction. “Come on, boys. I know you idiots better than you know yourselves.”

Dean muttered something underneath his breath about you having a lucky guess, prompting another laugh to escape from you. He walked forward, passing his brother as the both of you began walking to the Impala. Sam stood back for a moment and watched as his brother reached out a hand and subtly grabbed yours, a small smile stretched across his lips when he saw the both of you intertwine fingers. It took years and countless tragedies to get this far. Letting out a sigh of content from this happy ending, he stepped out of the room and shut the motel door behind him, following back to the car, knowing he’d had countless ammunition against his brother for the car ride out of this town. Sam couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across his lips in anticipation.


	6. Yellow Fever

Anxiety can be a tricky issue; it makes your mind believe just about anything is scarier than it really is. It makes your heart pound in fear and turn your thoughts into a broken record, forcing yourself into thinking about a certain dreaded subject or the smallest object worse than it really is. You could feel yourself beginning to feel a spike in your own from what was happening. You ran down the dark and empty streets yourself, the only sounds you could hear was the clicks of your heels and breathing that was coming out in heavy pants. You frantically looked around for Dean, but when he was nowhere to be seen, you called out his name. Running around in high heels and looking for the oldest Winchester wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend the remaining hours of his life. You needed to find him before he got himself into trouble, or worse, dead.

“Dean!” You called out his name again, hoping you would see him around somewhere, crouched some corner. You stopped for a moment to catch your breath and look around at your surroundings to see if you could get some direction. But you found a clue from the sudden crashing sound coming not even half a block away. Rolling your eyes, you force your aching legs to keep going, hoping that it was the man you were looking for. You wandered a bit farther until you found exactly what you suspected. Dean was lying on the floor after accidentally stumbling into a shopping cart, which held a homeless man’s possessions. The unfazed man looked over his shoulder to see Dean was standing there with the most panicked look in his eye. “What the hell—”

“Run, Y/N!” Dean yelled on the top of his lungs, his gaze was on the concrete ground. He looked like he was facing something that was his worst fear, you furrowed your brow. You’d only seen that look in his eye before, when he was about to be a chew toy for a hellhound. What you saw didn’t even compare to the beasts you’d faced. What he pointed down to was the equivalent of a stuffed animal. Both harmless and adorable. You cranked your head down to see that he was scared of a yorkie terrier with a cute pale pink bow she wore in her long and silky fur. The dog whimpered and tilted her head to the side, not sure what was going on. You walked over and bent down to pick it up with your arm to see if there was any tags, it must have been a runaway. But Dean didn’t like that. “Don’t! It’ll kill you!”

You looked away from the dog from his reaction you should have been used to by now, he’d been getting worse with each passing hour. But you still stared at him with a funny expression, your lips stretching into a faint smile. The dog sat in your arms, harmless as it could be. You tried opening your mouth to calm him down, but the dog spoke first, letting out a tiny bark. That shook Dean to his very core. You could feel a sharp sigh escape you when you see him stumbling backwards, his eyes widening from the noise, and before you can stop it, the man bolted off, a cry of fear echoed into the night. Your cheeks start to burn in embarrassment when you catch the homeless man staring, wondering what the hell just went on. You reach a hand inside your pocket and pull out all the money you had, you hand the folded up bills from the trouble and yorkie terrier to the homeless man. He looked at you with a blank expression. You mumble an apology before you go back chasing after Dean, knowing his life was about to be cut short in five hours.

\+ + +

 

Forty-Three Hours Earlier:

It was supposed to be the same cut and dry routine; dress in formal clothes to see a couple of dead bodies and make sure if this was your thing. you and the boys gotten a suspicious feeling when you stumbled upon an obituary of a man in his late forties who died of a heart attack, you even found at least two more men who passed away of the same because just another town over. What seemed suspicious about the matter was that all men seemed healthy—none of them were severely overweight, their family said they never smoked or indulged in too much junk food to cause their lives to be cut so short. It might be nothing, it could be something. You found the first victim still occupying a spot in the coroner’s freezer, and with the flash of a fake FBI badge, you personally met Frank O’brian as the coroner on duty unzipped the body bag.

“He died of a heart attack, right?” Sam asked the coroner the question you knew, the answer was three days ago. The younger man glanced down at the case file he was holding to inspect the information. “But O'Brien was forty-four years old, and, according to this, a marathon runner.”

“Everybody drops dead sooner or later.” The coroner said, shrugging from the usual cause of death from someone who had been young and healthy. Of course, he’d probably seen all sorts of strange things working a job like this. “It’s why I got job security.”

“Yeah, but Frank kicked it here.” Dean said. “Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks. You don’t think that’s strange?”

“Sounds like Maumee’s problem to me.” The coroner said, not giving much of a single care about the matter. “Why does the FBI give a damn about this, anyway.”

“Slow week.” You answered for him. “We’re just here to see the results of Frank’s autopsy.”

The coroner furrowed his brow, he wasn’t asked to do on from the cops who found his body. It was supposed to be a simple and natural cause of death. “What autopsy?” He asked.

Your lips stretched into a smile, “The one you’re going to do for us.”

Luckily enough, the coroner didn’t argue with the change in plans, shrugging it off as he began mumbling about him doing something at least today, it’d been slow week himself for death. You gotten in the proper plastic gown and gloves to make sure you didn’t get anything on your skin. With the scalpel in his hand, you watched as the coroner began his first incision into Frank’s chest, your nose scrunched up slightly from the sight of his flesh being cut open. He raised a brow at you from the peculiar reaction.

“First dead body?” He asked.

“Far from it.” You admitted, shaking your head.

“Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe. Hey,” The man pointed at the small metal table you were standing next to, you glanced down to see an array of tools. You could feel your stomach beginning to twist in discomfort. You really shouldn’t have ate before coming here. “Hand we those rib cutters, would you?”

You grabbed something that looked like the cutters he talked about, and with an nod, the coroner continued on with inspecting the inside cavity of Frank’s chest. You grimaced at the sound of bones being snipped like nothing before a faint squishing sound echoed through the very quiet room. You looked away for a moment when he began digging deeper, but what Dean caught quickly made your gaze down to look at Frank’s hand. You saw that his skin was bruised and filled with wounds that were slowly scabbing over, but it was the tan line on his ring finger that caught your attention after Dean inspected the man’s hand.

“Is that from a wedding ring?” Dean asked. “I didn’t think Frank was married.”

“Ain’t my department.” The coroner answered a question that wasn’t for him.

You reached out and grabbed ahold of Frank’s wrist, finding something that was strange. You slightly turned his arm around to show gashes in his skin, something that looked like a mix between claw marks and severe skinning on his palms. Some of it looked self inflicted, the rest looked like he had a nasty tumble to the concrete pavement. "Any ideas how he got these?” You asked the man, showing off the wounds that caught your attention.

“You know, what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground. Huh.” The coroner mumbled the last sentence to himself. You placed down Frank’s wrist and looked up to see the other man was stumped at what he found. “I can’t find any blockages in any of the major arteries.” With a little bit of elbow grease, the coroner managed to take out the human heart out of Frank’s chest, and when you saw the organ sitting in his hand, you quickly looked away, trying your hardest not to get sick. “Heart looks pretty damn healthy. Hold that a second, would you?”

You turned your head slightly from what you heard, only to see a disturbed Dean from what he was holding, Frank’s heart. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip from his reaction, Sam was careful to smile slightly at the sight of his older brother, but he got his own payback. You flinched away just in time when you saw something come flying into the air. Sam was the target of something that looked bloody, landing all over his face and mouth area. Now you couldn’t help yourself but let out a laugh, finding this situation a bit too amusing.

“Oh, sorry.” The coroner apologized with a small smile, he didn’t hide his amusement from what accidentally happened. “Spleen juice.”

\+ + +

The next stop on the list of places to go was the sheriff’s office, you patiently waited in the little waiting room with your foot tapping against the tiled floor. You looked away from the wall to quickly glance at the young deputy manning the front desk, he gave you a friendly, almost boyish, sort of smile. You returned the friendly gesture before you huffed out a frustrated breath, your gaze lingering somewhere else to pass the time. A minute or so passed before the office door finally opened, revealing the sheriff you’d been wanting to talk to. You and the brothers raised yourselves to your feet, signaling the man’s attention before he could sneak himself back into the office.

“Hell’s bells, Linus, have you seen my—” The sheriff stepped out his office and walked forward, partly concerned and interested for the guests he wasn’t informed of. “Who are they?”

“Federal agents.” Linus answered. “I, uh—”

“And you kept them waiting?” The sheriff questioned the young deputy.

“You—You said not to disturb.” He tried explaining a reason, but the man gave him a look.

“Come on back, fellas.” The sheriff ushered you all forward with a wave of the arm. You gave him a smile before walking forward, the brothers on your trail. You were about to walk inside the next room, but you were stopped. “Shoes off.”

You glanced down at the titled ground to see all sorts of reasons why you didn’t want to oblige, not knowing what sorts of things laid in between the cracks of the tiled floor, you let out a faint sigh and kicked off your heels. An awkward shiver ran itself through your body from the chill you felt on the bottom of your feet. You suddenly felt shorter than everyone else in the room, another reason why you liked wearing heels with at least a few inches. You followed behind after the boys kicked off their own shoes and stepped inside the office. Taking a peek around the room, it seemed like mostly any other one you’d been to before, you noted a trophy case of past sports he must have played and other medals he won while being on the force. You turned your attention away from the interior when you noticed his hand was hovering just in front of your face. Shaking hands with him, you smiled, trying to hide the wince you felt from his overly firm handshake.

“Al Britton.” He introduced himself to the three of you. “Good to meet you.”

You nodded your head, managing to wiggle your fingers behind your back without him noticing, hoping that he hadn’t broken your hand, it’d been barely a few days since you gotten over the nasty break from before. One of the good things about having something extra in your body—for some reason, you healed faster than most people. You noticed that it only took a few weeks before you were back to normal, as if nothing happened. Your thoughts were broken away when you noticed Al was pointing to a few chairs right across from his desk before pulling up another one. You plopped yourself into a chair and tugged down your skirt before crossing your legs over one another, you cleared your throat and waited for the sheriff to do the same. Al though he lingered over his desk, he never took a seat.

You furrowed your brow when he grabbed a half empty bottle of hand sanitizer and flicked open the lid, he squeeze a quarter size amount in his palm before putting the bottle back down. You watched as he began lathering his hands, making sure to scrub away any sorts of germs he might have come in contact with after shaking your hands. You examined his office again, you started to notice how everything was exactly in its rightful spot, nothing felt out of place. “So,” Al shut his laptop before taking a seat, finally settling himself down after everything was correct. “What can I do for Uncle Sam?”

“Well, we’re looking into the death of Frank O'Brien.” Sam started explaining for the reason why all of you were here, dropping by without a formal announcement. “We understand some of your men found his body.”

“They did. Me and Frank—we were friends. Hell, we were gamecocks.” Al let out the faintest sigh from the reminiscing of a past relationship of an old friend that had passed not even a week ago. It wasn’t appropriate to start chuckling like a child because of a name that sounded funny, you threw daggers at Dean when you caught him. When he noticed your icy glare, he quickly cleared his throat, trying to pretend like nothing happened. Al noticed the childish reaction, and he wasn’t happy. He stared at the man with a blank expression. “That’s our softball team’s name. They’re majestic animals.”

“Ignore my partner. He’s got the humor of an eleven year old boy.” You mumbled, you reached up a hand and awkwardly scratched the back of your head before you dropped it back into your lap. You gave him a sincere smile, nodding your head. “Continue on. We would love to know more about you and Frank.”

“I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was,” Al trailed off for a moment before finishing. “He was a good man.”

“Yeah.” Dean mumbled, agreeing with the man. You rolled your eyes from what he said next, somehow you refrained yourself from smacking him upside the head. “Big heart.”

“Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange?” Sam asked the officer, wondering if you might see the same behavior reported in the other men. “Maybe scared of something?”

Al leaned forward in his chair so he was now against his desk, “Oh, hell, yeah. Real jumpy.”

You raised your brows from the honest answer, “Do you know what scared him?”

“No. Wouldn’t answer his phone. Finally, sent some of my boys over to check on him, and well, you know the rest.” Al said, letting the three of you fill in the blank spaces of the cops finding Frank O’Brien dead on his apartment floor. You opened your mouth to ask him another question, but it died on the tip of your tongue from the coughing fit Al suddenly was stricken with. For someone who was conscious about germs, he didn’t use proper safety standards. You watched as he openly coughed in his hands before reaching for his trusty bottle of hand sanitizer. He flicked open the cap again and squeezed out an over excessive amount in his palm. You reminded yourself to wash your hands before leaving here, clearly he skipped that step after coming into work sick. He mindlessly scrubbed his hands clean. “So, why the feds give a crap? You don’t really think there’s a case here?”

“No, no. It’s probably nothing.” You lied to the officer with a shrug and smile. “Just a heart attack.”

\+ + +

“No way that was a heart attack.” You said, looking over your shoulder to the police department you were walking away from. Both the brothers and you were heading back to the Impala, deciding on your own something was here, and it was spreading to other counties, it was two men barely an hour out of town, and after hearing about Frank, you knew something was up.

“Definitely no way.” Sam agreed with you, knowing there was a pattern that was beginning to start having a high death rate and nasty symptoms. “Three victims, all with those same red scratches, all went from jittery to terrified to dead within forty-eight hours.”

“Something scared them to death?” Dean proposed a theory that sounded about right.

“All right,” Sam sighed, “So, what can do that?”

“I mean, you guys grew up with knowing about the creepy things that linger in the dark. From someone who spent pretty much half their life clueless, what can’t make someone paranoid if they came across one?“ You asked, knowing there was an endless amount of creatures out there which could make someone freak out if they saw one. "Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra? It could be a hundred things.”

“Yeah.” Sam said. “So we make a list and start crossing things off.”

"All right, next question.” You said. “Who was the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?”

“Uh, his neighbor, Mark Hutchins.” Sam answered, you nodded your head from the familiar name you read in the police report. “Thought maybe we could swing by his place to see if he—”

“Hang on, hey.” Dean quickly stopped in his tracks, you and his little brother following behind when you caught sight of the uneasy look in his eye. You and Sam asked him what was wrong, wondering what could have been so important. Dean was staring at something from the corner of his eye, you looked over to see a group of boys minding their own business. They were probably on their way to school before meeting up in town. But for some reason, Dean was getting a strange vibe from them. “I don’t like the looks of those teenagers down there. Let’s go this way.”

Dean cautiously looked both ways of the quiet streets before making his way through the crosswalk, completely going the opposite direction of where the Impala was parked. You weren’t sure why the man was acting so strange all of a sudden. You looked away from the man when he was safe across the street, you looked over at Sam, wondering what just happened. Both of you let out a nervous chuckle before walking across the street and passing the teenagers. You gave them a friendly smile when you caught their attention, all of them nervously shifted around, obviously afraid of seeing a few people in suits during school hours that were quickly approaching soon. Dean didn’t waste anytime in getting in the car, his hands on the wheel and eyes looking straight forward, not even acknowledge the teens. You wondered what had gotten into him.

\+ + +

Snakes, tarantulas, other reptilians locked away in cages. Oh, my. You curiously glanced around the living room of Mark Hutchins, the man had quite the collection of animals on display for everyone to see. Mark had a snake around his neck, but by the looks of the other cage you saw after you cranked your head over your shoulder, there must have been another one wandering around. Out of wonder, you peered down at the ground to see if you could spot something sneaking around before you looked over at Dean. Your face scrunched up in worry when you saw him sitting there, absolutely still. He tried his hardest to remain calm, but as his eyes took notice of the creepy critters, there was a look of fear in his eye.

“Tyler and Perry.” Your attention was cut to Mark, his lips stretched into an amused smile from the connection he’d gotten. Dean wasn’t smooth as he thought when it came to picking out names for all of you. “Just like Aerosmith.”

“Yeah, small world.” You mumbled with half a thought, giving the man a small smile before turning the conversation into the reason why all of you were here. “So, when was the last time you saw Frank O'Brien?”

“Monday. He was watching me from his window.” Mark explained the brief encounter. “I waved at him, but he just closed the curtains.”

“Hmm. Did you speak to him recently?” Sam asked. “Did he seem different? Uh, scared?”

“Oh, totally.” Mark said, nodding his head. “He was freaking out.”

Dean cautiously examined the room, still having an uneasy feeling about sticking around any longer around in this place. His thoughts were broken out of when he felt something lightly squeeze his arm, he looked over to see you were staring at him with a worried expression. His lips faintly stretched into a smile as he glanced away from you and to Mark, trying to somehow keep himself engaged with the conversation. "Do you know, uh,” Dean tried his hardest to ask a question, but he stopped halfway through to take a deep breath. He quickly looked away from the lizard and back to Mark. “Do you know what scared him?”

“Well, yeah, witches.” Mark answered, prompting for you to become surprised from the answer. You adjusted yourself in the middle spot on the couch, trying your hardest to keep a smile from spreading across your lips, happy to see a lead come through. You nodded your head at the man, letting him elaborate on this fear. “Well, ‘Wizard of Oz’ was on TV the other night, right? And he said that green bitch was totally out to get him.”

You looked over at Sam who was sitting on your left, you raised a brow from the honest answer you weren’t expecting. He cleared his throat and looked away from you, turning his attention back to the man sitting across the room. “Anything else scare him?” Sam asked, hopeful for a real answer that could lead you all somewhere useful.

“Everything else scared him—al-qaeda, ferrets, artificial sweeteners, those pez dispensers with their dead little eyes,” Mark said, listing off things that were almost all harmless. “Lots of stuff.”

Dean wasn’t concentrating on what the man was saying, he kept staring at the reptiles around the room, but his body froze for a moment from what he saw. It was a furry tarantula. What if it somehow escaped out of its cage and bit him? Aren’t some spiders posioniness? And if he did get bit, it wouldn’t be something cool, unlike Spiderman. No, it would be painful, slow and agonizing death. Your voice broke him out of the trances of endless questions. “So,tell me—what was Frank like?”

“I mean, he’s dead, you know? I don’t want to hammer him, but he got better.” Mark said, hesitant to continue on speaking ill about the dead. You repeated after him, wondering what he wasn’t telling you. “Well, in high school he was—he was a dick. Like a bully. I mean, he probably taped half the town’s butt cheeks together, mine included.”

You flinched from the awkward reaction Dean used sometimes when he didn’t know exactly how to react to something. You roughly kicked him with your foot, quickly prompting him to shut up. “So he pissed a lot of people off.” Dean said something useful, trying to cover for himself and raising a good question. “You think anyone would have wanted to get revenge?”

“Well, I don’t…” Mark fell for the bait, he trailed off for a moment, hesitant to continue on with this conversation. But before you could get the information that you wanted, he quickly asked a question himself. “Frank had a heart attack, right?”

“Just answer the question, sir.” You spoke with a serious tone, not giving him a chance to weasel out of this.

“I don’t think so.” Mark answered honestly. “Like I said, Frank got better and after what happened to his wife.”

“His wife?” Dean parroted the man. “So he was married.”

“She died about twenty years ago. Frank was really broken up about it.” Mark explained details you didn’t know about. Dean nodded his head, listening to the story. But his attention was broken away from once more from the conversation when he finally took notice of the snake wrapped around the man’s neck, he didn’t realize he gotten a nervous look on his face until Mark let out a laugh. “Don’t be scared of Donny. He’s a sweetheart. It’s Marie you got to look out for. She smells fear.”

You could hear the faint sound of something hissing behind your ear, and when you quickly looked over your shoulder, you noticed a small head peeking out from behind the couch. Your lips stretched into a faint smile when you saw a yellow snake start crawling its way over. Marie was big, something that could wrap its body around your neck and squeezed the life out of you. But she seemed harmless enough to you and Sam. Dean, on the other hand, looked like he was about to pass out. And Marie seemed to have smelled his terror. She easily draped herself over his body until she was slithered away. You made matters only worse for Dean when you reached out a hand to touch her scaly skin, acting as if she wasn’t capable of killing everyone here if she wanted to. Dean shuddered at the thought.

\+ + +

You and Sam spent almost two hours searching up and down Frank’s apartment to see if there was anything that could help figure out what was going on here. When there was nothing useful, both of you called it quits and headed back down to the parking lot where you spotted Dean sitting in the car. You must have been more quieter than you thought, Dean jumped a good few inches in the air when he heard the familiar squeaks of the doors opening before the Impala shifted around from the sudden weight of two people. You gave him a confused look, wondering what causing him to be so on edge these past few hours. He wasn’t acting like himself, and it was starting to worry you. But you kept your thoughts to yourself, knowing it could have been nothing.

“Any luck at the county clerk’s office?” Sam asked his brother, hoping for some good news.

“I’m not sure I’d call it luck.” Dean admitted. He stopped scratching his left arm so he could hand over the papers he found on the wife you didn’t know Frank had. You caught a glimpse of a young woman in a newspaper article that was handed off to Sam after his brother had been reading to pass the time and see what else he could learn. “Frank’s wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive. She went off her meds back in ‘88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over, strung up in her motel room–suicide.”

“Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?” You asked.

“No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared. Airtight alibi.” Dean explained, you let out a faint sigh from the possibility that could help shed some light to what was going on here. Turning the engine back on, all of you began driving back to the hotel, knowing all of you were back to square one. “How was Frank’s pad?”

“Clean. Y/N and I searched it top to bottom.” Sam said. “No EMF, no hex bags, no sulfur.”

“So probably no ghosts, no witches, no demons.” Dean declared more dead ends. “Three down and ninety-seven more to go.”

“Yeah.” Sam muttered underneath his breath, knowing there wasn’t any chance for this case to end up with the normal monsters they hunted to be the culprit. He looked out the passenger side window for a moment to see the nightlife passing him by, but he noticed how it was going slower than he normally was used to. He cranked his head to the dashboard, his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed the needle on the speedometer was unusually low. “Dude, you’re going twenty.”

"And?” Dean asked, his gaze never left the road.

“That’s the speed limit.” You pointed out. “You never go that slow.”

“What, Y/N?” Dean questioned you. “Safety’s a crime now?”

You and Sam couldn’t help yourselves but give the man a confused look from his behavior, only to brush it off in the end. You leaned back in your seat for a moment when you saw the hotel sign come into view. But as Dean approached the turn, he never did quite make it, only to drive past. “Dean, where are you going?” You asked, surprised to see the building pass by. “That was our hotel.”

“Y/N, I’m not gonna make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic. I’m not suicidal.” Dean lectured you about driving safety, your mouth parted open in surprise. This was the man who lived his life fast and furious, he thought the law was above him sometimes. And it seemed the man caught himself, a nervous laugh came out. “Did I just say that? That was kind of weird.”

You rolled your eyes from the behavior that was only getting stranger. Yet your attention was fixated on something else when you heard a faint buzzing sound coming from somewhere in the car. You quickly shushed everyone from saying anything, wondering where the noise was coming from. “Do you hear something?” You asked, wondering if they noticed it too. “It’s like…a buzzing.”

Sam seemed to have a hunch of what was going on. He reached a hand inside his jacket pocket when he realized the noise was coming near him. He pulled out the EMF reader, only to see it was going crazy, more than it was back at Frank’s pad, his brow furrowed in concern when he pointed it at his brother. That’s when the reader went crazy. He pointed it at you, the reader fell silent. But when he pointed it at Dean again, the reader began to go crazy. “Am I haunted?” Dean asked, his eyes growing wide. His fear growing wilder from what was going on. “Am I haunted?!”

\+ + +

“Whatever was happening to the previous victims, has to be happening to Dean. It’s the only thing that makes sense.“ You came to your final conclusion You said, coming to your final conclusion of what could be happening here. You and Sam stepped out of the bakery after grabbing some breakfast the next morning, Dean offered to sit inside the car, mumbling something about being anxious at the large crowds of people coming in and out of the bakery. His attitude was changing rapidly. It was turning from mindful anxiousness to anxiety about the smallest things. Your teeth sank into the doughnut you snagged from the box Sam was holding, you enjoyed the sinful taste of sugar glaze that paired nicely with the hot cup of coffee you sipped to wash down the food. "Bobby was telling me…”

The information you were going to tell Sam never got out, your attention was slowly being drawn somewhere else. You stopped in your tracks when you heard the familiar tune of "Eye of the Tiger” echo through the parking lot on full blast. Furrowing your brow, you and Sam gave one a curious look, wondering if the person blasting the music was in the Impala, but you couldn’t see Dean anywhere. Both of you headed forward to the car, you peeked down slightly to see someone was there, you saw quick glimpses of arms every few seconds. You walked farther until you saw Dean; he was lying on his back, jamming out to the song as he shamelessly got lost, air drumming and nodding his head to the beat. You took another bite of your doughnut to keep a laugh from escaping you. Part of you wanted to enjoy this sight a little longer, but Sam thought it was enough. He roughly slapped the hood of the car a few times, jerking his brother out of his trance.

Dean jumped up from his seat from the surprise attack, he quickly looked around to see who had disturbed him. When he saw that it was just you and Sam, Dean fumbled to turn off the music and get himself out of the car. “Dude.” Dean showed you all his left forearm, you noticed the start of three red scratches he kept mindlessly scratching at all morning. “Look at this.”

“Stop scratching them. You’re making it worse.” You ordered at him, slapping his hand away when you caught him. It’d been almost nothing last night when he started, but he kept making it worse with his constant picking at the wound. To keep his hands busy, you snatched the box of doughnuts from his brother before handing it off to Dean. He didn’t seem comfortable with the idea, he sniffed and peeked inside the box before he tossed it into the driver’s side seat through the open window. “So, I talked to Bobby.”

“And, well, you’re not gonna like it.” Sam said, a bit of small pause, a bit taken back from the sight of his brother not indulging himself into a box of pastries. He shook his head before telling the new information he learned from the senior hunter. “It’s ghost sickness.”

“Ghost sickness? God, no.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He leaned himself against the Impala from the diagnosis of what could have explained his unusual behavior. Yet his worried act only lasted for a moment before he looked at the both of you with a straight face. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“Okay. Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease,” You began explaining to him, telling the man what information you heard from Bobby. “Which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded his head, “Get to the good stuff.”

“Symptoms are you get anxious,” You listed off one of the common signs Dean had been seen to have since last night. He nodded his head, you continued on with the details. “And scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah, but, Y/N,” Dean said, “We haven’t seen a ghost in weeks.”

“Well, we doubt you caught it from a ghost. Look, once a spirit infects that first person, ghost sickness can spread like any sickness through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It’s like the flu.” You explained to Dean, he let out a quiet sigh as he rolled his eyes from his lack of luck. “Now, Frank O’Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero. Our very own outbreak monkey.”

“Right. And get this–Frank was in Maumee over the weekend.” Sam said, giving a possible theory of what could happen. “Softball tournament, which is where he must have infected the other two victims.”

“Were they gamecocks?“

“Cornjerkers.”

"So, ghosts infected Frank, passed it on to the other guys, and I got it from his corpse?” Dean asked for clarification. You nodded your head from the disappointing conclusion. “So, now, what, I have forty-eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?”

You gave him a weak smile, “More like twenty-four.”

“Super. Well, why me? Why not you

or Sam?” Dean asked, he gestured an arm to his brother. The younger man hadn’t shown any of the symptoms Dean or the other men had before dying. “I mean, he got hit with the spleen juice. And you were near Frank’s corpse.”

“Bobby and I have a theory that it only affects men. Gotta love double standards.” You pointed out, your lips stretching into a smirk. “And there’s another theory we’ve got running that could explain why Sam’s not sick. It turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully the other two victims–one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer. Basically…they were all dicks.”

Dean was taken back from what you said. He almost seem hurt, like you really meant it. “So you’re saying I’m a dick, Y/N?”

“No, no, no.” You quickly said, shaking your head. “It’s not just that. All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favor. Sort of like karma, I guess.”

“I don’t scare people.” Dean said, defending himself.

“Dean, all we do is scare people.” Sam said. 

“Okay, well, then,” Dean stumbled to make a remark at his brother. “You’re a dick, too, Sam.”

Sam smirked at his brother’s lame insult, “Apparently I’m not.”

“Whatever.” Dean grumbled. “How do we stop it?”

“We gank the ghost that started all of this.” You said, moving around the paper tissue that was currently holding your half eaten doughnut you’d been previously munching on. As you continued speaking, you moved the pastry back to your mouth to finish. “We do that, the disease should clear up on its own.”

“You guys thinking Frank’s wife?” Dean asked, wondering if that could have been a lead.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Who knows why she killed herself, you know?”

Dean exhaled sharply as he began processing the information. You chewed down the bits of food you had inside your mouth, you noticed his shift in behavior that was starting to show from how his gaze scanned the parking lot and his shoulders hunched low. “What are you doing waiting out here, anyway?” You asked. “I thought you were heading inside after you insisted on moving hotels this morning.”

“Our room’s on the fourth floor.” Dean admitted with a bashful tone. “It’s–It’s high.”

Sam rolled his eyes from his brother’s attitude, obviously annoyed from how hard this case was going to be with Dean acting like a nervous wreck, and it was only going to get worse. “I’ll see if I can move you guys down to the first floor.” You offered, giving them both a small smile. Dean seemed grateful from what you did, you gave a nod before you turned yourself on your heels, heading off to the front desk to switch rooms. If it was going to help Dean slow down the process, you’d do just about anything for him before it got worse.

\+ + +

Tick.Tick. Tick. Tick.

Dean kept staring at the clock that hung wall, right above the doorway of the hotel room. For a moment he kept thinking about how dangerous it could be if it got loose from the hinges it holding it up and dropping right down on someone’s head. But the next thoughts he was having about how annoying the loud ticking sound was, reminding him of each second his life was passing by, in less than one day he could be dead if all of you weren’t fast enough. Okay, not the kind of positive thinking he needed right now. Dean shook himself out of the grim attitude and looked back down at the book he was supposed to be reading while you and Sam were off, trying to dig up dirt on Frank’s wife. He flipped the page and began skimming the information, not paying much attention, but his gaze lingered to the pictures that were above the paragraphs. He blinked at what he saw.

The first one was an old painting of a man hunched over, Dean furrowed his brow at how graphic it was, the man stood in a pool of his own blood. A hand was pressed against his abdomen as he continued on vomiting up a stream of blood. Dean mindlessly looked over at the new picture on the bottom right hand page, he brought up a hand of his own to cover the cough he began having after feeling a little tickle in his throat. He blinked, and almost as if he didn’t notice before, the woman in the picture changed. He stopped coughing as the noise came out like a startled gasp from what he saw. Dean could see the painted figure had their chest ripped open, blood and guts went flying everywhere, but it was the face of someone familiar that caught him off guard. Out of terrified curiosity, he leaned forward to see your face was staring back at him. He furrowed his brow, but when he blinked again, the woman he saw before was back to normal, your face vanished. Dean shook his head and began reading again, trying to pretend he saw nothing.

He tried to distract his mind by continuing to read through the information, a false sense of hope made him believe the answer could be hidden in the block of words. But even what he was reading couldn’t help the hallucinations that were about to get worse for Dean. When he finished up reading most of the first paragraph, his face scrunched up from the bold text that popped out at him. “You’re dying.” Wait, that wasn’t there before. His gaze lingered down the page, that’s when he caught another text written in bold letters. “Again. Loser.” What the hell? Was this book taunting him? Dean could feel his breathing becoming shallow as he nervously swallowed, he tried rubbing his eyes, hoping it would stop the hallucinations, but it only got worse. “You gonna cry?” Dean’s eyes widened as his gaze dropped to the last paragraph. “Baby gonna cry?”

Dean dropped the book to the table and pushed his seat out slightly. He suddenly could feel his frustration becoming worse when he heard the familiar ticking sound coming from the clock above that only made his anxiety worse. Tick. Tick. Tick. It went with the perfect rhythm of his heartbeat, he needed to make it stop. And without another thought, Dean got out of his seat and headed for the door. Seconds later, a loud crashing noise echoed through the room.

\+ + +

You and Sam came back an hour later after leaving the oldest Winchester alone, you stopped by the gas station with a plastic bag of all his favorite foods to help. Sometimes when you got nervous, food helped eased the pain. You walked inside the room after Sam unlocked the door and held it open for you. The first thing the two of you notice is the broken clock lying on the floor, someone broke the glass and to deliberately punch out the clock. You look over to the right where the table is, that’s where you left Dean, but he’s not there. Instead you find him sitting on the couch, directly across from you, his feet kicked up on the table as he nursed a beer. You step into the room and shut the door behind you, Sam raises a brow at his brother.

“Everything all right?” You asked Dean.

“Oh, yeah. Just peachy.” He replied with a sarcastic smile. “Find anything?”

“Not really. Jessie O’Brien’s body was cremated, so I’m pretty sure she’s not our ghost.” You said as you set down the bag onto the table. You headed over to the couch so you could sit next to Dean, Sam took the loveseat right across from the both of you. When you turned your head to look at the man, you slapped his hand away after you caught him scratching at the wound after you told him not to. “Hey. Quit picking at that. You’re gonna make it worse.”

“How you feeling?” Sam asked, curious for an update on his brother’s progress.

“Awesome. It’s nice to have my head on the chopping block again.“ Dean said, admitting everything with a sarcastic overtone. If he could still pull it off, it meant that he was still holding in there. "I almost forgot what that feels like. It’s freaking delightful.”

“We’ll keep looking.” Sam promised. His brother nodded his head as he began to put the neck of the bottle to his lips, but a sudden coughing fit never got him that far enough. You furrowed your brow when you heard the coughing turning into choking, almost gasps of breaths. “You, okay?”

Dean couldn’t answer this time. Instead, he jumped out of his seat and headed for the sink, knowing there was something stuck inside his throat. You and Sam quickly followed behind the man, both of you worried from what was going on. Dean was hunched over the sink, he coughed a few times before the strange object finally lodged out of his throat and jumped out to the sink. You furrowed your brow when you watched him reach a hand inside and grab the small object, he quickly washed it off before bringing it closer to his face to see what it was. You leaned in closer to see that it was a wood chip. You quickly looked over at Sam, his face lit up from what it was.

“We’ve been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have,” Sam said with a smile. “You, Dean.”

Dean pouted as he looked down at the wood piece, "I don’t want to be a clue.”

“The abrasions, this–the disease,” You said, “It’s trying to tell us something.”

“Tell us what,” Dean asked, “Wood chips?”

Sam chuckled and nodded his head, “Exactly.”

\+ + +

It took almost an hour of research, but you finally managed to track down where the wood chip came from after you made out the small markings. Dean hesitantly drove up to the abandoned industrial factory, his mind kept racing with all of the possible hazards that laid ahead, none of them even brushed up on the spirit that could have been lingering in there. You were curious to see what you could find inside the place, and when you heard the car engine shut off, you opened up the backseat door and stepped out. As you closed the door, your eyes wandered over to the small stream of water that passed by, over the river laid a small forest. But your head went snapping forward from what you heard Dean announce, making you realize he was getting worse.

“I’m not going in there.”

“Y/N and I need backup, and you’re all we’ve got.” Sam said. “You’re going in, Dean.”

You opened your mouth to try and ease the older man into getting comfortable, but it seemed he was warming up to the bottle. Dean opened up the car door again before grabbing a bottle and twisting off the top, your eyebrows arched up when you watched him take a large, and rather long, sip of the rusty liquid before roughly swallowing it down. “Let’s do this.” Dean muttered to himself, trying to pump up himself up with adrenaline. You let out a sigh and followed behind him to meet up with Sam, who had been impatiently waiting for his brother to open up the trunk. Dean fumbled out the car keys from his pocket and unlocked the trunk, yet his gaze lingered back to the construction sight. “It is a little spooky, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes, softly pushing him to the side as Sam opened up the secret compartment to get some of the weapons needed to protect yourselves. He loaded up a shotgun with salt rounds for himself, and as he reached for Dean’s pistol iron rounds for you, a hand quickly ripped it away before you could grab it. You quickly turned your head to see Dean was holding the gun. “What the hell, Dean!” You hissed at him. “I need that.”

“Oh, you’re not carrying that. It’s loaded. It could go off and kill you.“ Dean said, you let out a sharp breath and placed your hands on your hips. You narrowed your eyes at him, he looked for something else you could use. What he grabbed made you scowl. "You can man the flashlight.”

“Fine. You can have the gun.” You offered, reaching out a hand to grab the flashlight. But you knew Dean didn’t like the idea of him carrying the loaded weapon. He hesitantly looked back and forth at his opens for a moment before he finally surrendered. Your lips stretched into a smile as you grabbed the gun. “Thank you, Dean. I promise to protect you from the big, bad spirit.”

Sam rolled his eyes, you ushered the boys to the abandoned sight, knowing the search was about to begin. When you got inside, Dean only proved to be worse with his sickness. It was normal for you to be sandwiched in between the boys during hunts like this, Sam was taking the lead with the shotgun pointed out and Dean lurking behind. It almost could have been tolerable. But you couldn’t stand the fact that Dean was hovering too closely over you, to the point where you could almost feel his breathing tickle your neck. And he accidentally stepped on the back of your shoes, making you stumble forward into Sam, causing him to get caught off guard. To make matters even worse, EMF wasn’t going to work with him around, either.

You took a step forward after Sam when he knew it was good to just stand around. But you barely made any progress when you felt something strange underneath the sole of your shoe, from the firmness, it wasn’t a rock. You backed away so you could take a close inspection, only to accidentally bump into Dean, who nearly jumped a foot in the air from your accidental mishap. You shushed him and calmed him down before you pointed at the ground below. With the light coming from the flashlight, you crouched down and pushed away a piece of paper when something shiny caught your eye. You picked up what appeared to be a gold wedding ring, with an engraving.

“To Frank, Love Jessie.” You read what was written inside the golden band of the ring. You furrowed your brow from the strange discovery. "Frank O'Brien’s ring?”

“What the hell was Frank doing here?” Dean asked.

You shrugged, “No idea.”

All of you got back to your feet and continued searching through the building, wondering what your dead vic could have been wandering around here for. You followed behind with Dean next to you, finally solving the problem of him hovering over you like a scared child. Sam took the lead like the brave little soldier, and while things seemed to have been quiet, the sudden sound of metal rattling caused Dean to subconsciously grip a hand around your wrist, yanking you back in your spot. You gave him a glare, he pulled away. The noise was coming from one of the lockers from the next room. As Sam searched for anything that could be causing the noise, your hand reached for the gun you’d tucked in the back of your jeans. The closer you got to the lockers, the louder the rattling got, making it easy to pinpoint where the noise was coming from. You drew out the gun for protection as your other hand reached for the door handle. You looked over at Sam, who was counting down for the right time. One…two…three. You quickly ripped open the metal door, thinking what you were about to see was some ghost trying to pull a prank on you, but it wasn’t.

First noise you heard was a cat screeching, then a panicked scream.

“AAAAAAAH! AAAAH!” Dean screamed at the top of his lungs. His eyes were open wide as his mouth was parted open far as it could go, his body was frozen in place from what happened. Your mouth parted open as you watched him let out one more terrified scream before he realized it was just a cat hiding, he quickly inhaled deep breaths before he placed his hands on his knees, trying to get his heartbeat to steady down. You never, in your entire life, have seen Dean Winchester act like a whimp. Sam stared at his brother, obviously done with all of this. Dean cracked a small smile, embarrassed from what he’d just done. “That was scary!”

Sam rolled his eyes from what happened and stepped out first, and before Dean could sneak his way out of this, you yanked him by his wrist and dragged him forward, making him follow behind his brother. Everyone continued on searching with no more disturbances. The next room all of you stumbled onto was a mess of papers and rusting machine parts. Still, no ghost. You stopped in your tracks for a moment and took a sweep of the room to see if there was anything that could have popped out of you that might be of help. Sam went his own way as Dean felt safe enough to slowly venture off on his own. Your attention was caught on a metal table that was littered with old papers and abandoned tools. Without much else to go on, you walked forward to see what you could find. You walked forward and skimmed the papers, pushing back a few until you stumbled upon an oil pastel sketch of someone that was familiar looking. You fished a hand inside your jacket and pulled out the newspaper article. Looking at the pictures, they were too similar.

“Hey, this is Frank’s wife.” You said, bringing the boys’ attention to what you found. You wondered why there was a picture of her lying around here. “And the plot thickens.”

You reached out a hand to grab the sketch from the table, accidentally ripping the bottom part in half. But it seemed you upset someone. You quickly looked over your shoulder when you heard the sound of the machines rumbling to life, someone was upset with you. Dean jumped from what was going on. He quickly looked around to see who was to blame for this cheap scare. You and Sam were mindless as you searched for the spirit, never knowing Dean had found him first. You looked over at Dean when you caught him frozen in place again, his eyes widen with fear with the flashlight pointing at something from across the room. Following his gaze, you looked over to see a man was standing in the corner with his back turned to everyone. You stepped forward to lightly slap Sam in the arm, directing him to the special guest you’d been waiting for.

Sam pointed the shotgun at the spirit which hadn’t moved at all, even shouting at him didn’t break his concentration on the wall. You looked over your shoulder to reassure Dean that everything was okay, you blinked in surprise when he wasn’t standing next to you anymore. You looked to the double doors to see him running away like a scared child, you let out a sharp breath. “Yup. That’s the man we trust our lives with. When he’s back to normal, I swear. I’m gonna kick his stupid ass.” You muttered to his little brother. The both of you looked away from the man running away and back to the spirit, who was now running forward to you. Your eyes widened in surprise from the sneak attack. “Sam!”

He didn’t need a second warning before his finger was on the trigger, seconds later, the spirit vanished from sight. Who you just saw was the spirit of Luther Garland, an employee that was hanging way past quitting time. Before either one of you could get hurt, you headed out of the factory and back to the Impala, where you suspected Dean would have been, hiding inside the driver’s seat. Instead he was crouched down on the ground, chugging the last few sips of the alcohol he carried around. You might have gotten the right place, but Dean was getting worse. You needed to find out what you could on this Luther, and fast.

\+ + +

“Is he…drunk?”

The question from the deputy caught you off guard. You searched what you could on Luther Garland, but there was barely anything good, the only thing you knew was that he died a strange death. You thought a trip to the police station and some fresh air would have done Dean some good, all though you drove him here with no protests from him, you did think it was strange. You looked over your shoulder to see Dean was standing there with his eyes glazed over, he slightly wobbled around in his spot, and when he caught your gaze, he tried to wink and give you a thumbs up. Oh, God

He really was drunk. You shouldn’t have let him sneak that second bottle.

“No.” You lied, quickly turning your gaze back to the young man. Clearing your throat, you opened up the case file he brought out and skimmed it over, until a piece of information caught your attention. “Deputy, according to this, Luther Garland’s cause of death was psychical trauma. What does that mean?”

“The guy died twenty years ago–before my time.” He said. “Sorry.”

You gave him a frustrated smile, “Then can we talk to the sheriff?”

“Um, he’s out sick today.” The deputy said.

“Well, if you see him will you have him call us? We’re staying at the Bluebird.” You said, shutting the file before lifting it up. “Mind if i take this?” 

The deputy nodded, you gave him another smile before you turned around, heading off after you waved for Dean to follow behind. But the man stood there for a moment, dropping his arm back down to his side after inspecting his fingers. “Know what?” He asked the young man, his lips stretched into a grin from the compliment he was about to give. “You’re awesome.”

“Thanks.” The deputy was taken back from what was going on, his lips stretched into an awkward smile as he looked around. Dean was still standing there, so what else could the young man do but play along. “Um, y-you too, I guess.”

Dean stumbled to get his hand inside his pant pocket, you could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment from what was going on. You snatched him by his arm and yanked him to the door, you gave the deputy a friendly smile before you were ushering the clearly intoxicated Dean out of the police station and back to the Impala, thanking your lucky stars the young man was either too stupid or naive into figuring out what was going on. You huffed out a breath, knowing things weren’t going as you hoped. Anxiety and alcohol do not mix for Dean. You snatched the bottle away and shoved him into the car, hopeful Sam knew a trick to sober up his brother.

\+ + +

“You should have stayed with him.”

“What? I’m not babysitting Dean.”

“Why not? He’s getting worse.”

“You calmed him down earlier. You’re the best candidate.”

“Yeah, well…He’s your brother.”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

You scoffed at the title Sam threw at you, a heat of embarrassment came creeping into your cheeks as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying your hardest to think of a better reason. You dug more into Luther Garland to find that he had an older brother that was still alive and currently residing at the Peaceful Pines assisted living for seniors. All though the sun was starting to set, you called the place to make sure it was okay to see the man, and thankfully, they arranged a meeting you were five minutes late to. The problem that arised between you and the youngest Winchester was who had the responsibility of “babysitting” Dean, who was growing worse ever since the alcohol wore out of his system an hour ago. Sam insisted that he could have handled this on his own, but there was no way you were going to sit in a motel room with Dean. Every little noise and sight of a new face made him jump out of his skin. And it was getting on your last nerve.

So here all of you were, dressed in your formal clothes and arguing with one another in the middle of the parking lot of what should have been an easy decision. You and Sam were getting frustrated with the lack of leads to help get his brother better, and the panic wasn’t quite helping, either. Both of you agreed with an eyeroll and frustrated sigh before heading into the building with Dean following behind like a frightened puppy at your heels. Most of the walkthrough had been harmless enough after getting directions from the friendly receptionist at the front desk. You and Sam turned the corner to the banquet hall, you dodged an old woman who was walking down the hall with the IV walker close to her side. Dean had accidentally fallen back a few steps from the synch he’d gotten used to. When he saw the old lady, he could feel a rush of panic and jumped out of the way, his back pressed against the wall with a gasp of surprise coming out. He fumbled to hide his face in embarrassment as she passed by, you ushered Sam to continue on.

“This isn’t gonna work.” Dean mumbled with a nervous tone. You placed a hand on his back and made him continue on down the hall to catch up with his brother. “Come on, Y/N, these badges are fake. What if we get busted. We could go to jail.”

“Dean, shh! Calm down.” You ordered at him. You quickly stopped him when you noticed that no one was coming. You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked at him directly in the eye. “I promise this is going to work out fine. Like the million times we’ve done this. Now, deep breath in.” You inhaled a deep breath, he followed the same directions you used him on earlier. Waiting a few moments, you exhaled, he did the same. “Good. You feel better?”

He shook his head. This was beginning to become more than just a standard panic attack, he was crawling to the finish line of full blown paranoia and terror. You let out a breath of your own and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him down the hall where Sam was still waiting, before everyone stepped inside the next room, you quickly slapped Dean’s hand away from his wound and hissed at him to stop scratching. Thankfully you finally walked into the next room where you saw Luther’s brother waiting for all of you. He was growing bored from the wait as he rested his head against his palm, Sam stepped forward, you and Dean lingered behind as he introduced himself.

“Mr. Garland?” Sam snapped the man right out of his trance, he gave a friendly smile. “Hi. Um, I’m Agent Tyler. This is Agent Perry and Hamilton—FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your brother Luther.”

“Let me see some I.D.” Mr. Garland commanded, just to be safe.

Dean’s face dropped into a panicked expression, you gave the older man a friendly smile. You did as you were told, you fished out your badge and handed it over, the brothers did the same. It was a long moment of watching the man inspect every little detail that was too good to be true. Dean stared at the man, and when Mr. Garland noticed, his eyes flickered up to him. “Those are real. Obviously.” Dean tried his hardest to be calm, only it ended in him rambling like an idiot. You cleared your throat, giving him a subtle warning to shut up before he really did blow your cover. He tried his hardest, but in the end, paranoia got the best of him. “I mean, who would want to pretend to be an FBI agent, huh? That’s just nutty!”

You stomped your high heel into his foot, hard enough to render him speechless. Dean’s facial expressions were written with pain for a moment, your lips stretched into a smirk. Mr. Garland seemed satisfied enough with what he saw and handed back the badges to you three. “What do you want to know?” He asked, curious to see what this meeting was all about.

“Uh, well, according to this, your brother Luther died of psychical trauma.” You took the only free seat across from the man and settled down. You opened up the case file you borrowed from the police station and opened it up. It seemed Mr. Garland showed a response that triggered your curiosity, he scoffed and shook his head. “You don’t agree.”

“No, I don’t.” Mr. Garland admitted.

You watched as he looked away from you again, it almost seemed like he was holding back an opinion he wanted to tell someone, but who would listen to an old man? You heard the sound of chairs scraping against the floors before the brothers took a seat across the table. “Well, then, what would you call it?” You asked him, wanting to hear his side of the story.

“Don’t matter what an old man thinks.” He muttered.

“Mr. Garland, we’re just trying to get the truth on your brother.” You reassured the man. But you could see that his facial expressions didn’t change much, like he didn’t believe you. “Please.”

He was silent for a moment, you watched as Mr. Garland reached a hand to pick something out from the case file, you noticed he grabbed the old photo I.D. from Luther’s job. He inspected it for a moment, his lips stretched into a faint smile. But just a second later, it dropped. “Everybody was scared of Luther. They called him a monster. He was too big, too mean-looking. Just too different.” Mr. Garland began to explain a grim picture of his brother, he let out a quiet sigh before continuing on. “Didn’t matter. He was the kindest man I ever knew. Did matter he’d never hurt no one.”

Mr. Garland’s brow furrowed, he tried his hardest not to break into tears. He continued on. “A lot of people failed Luther. I was one of them. I was a widower with three young’uns, and I told myself there was nothing I could do.”

You listened to what he had to say, it almost reminded you of Lennie Small from the book, Of Mice and Men. He was a strong and large man. Most people feared and abused what physical strength he had. In reality, he was a kind hearted soul, more than anyone in the book. You grabbed the sketch you’d took from the old factory and opened it up. “Mr. Garland,” You pushed it closer to him, allowing him to take it and inspect the details for a moment. “Do you recognize this woman?”

“It’s Jessie O’Brien.” He said, confirming what you’d believed. “He man, Frank, killed Luther.”

“How do you know that?” Sam asked, taken back from the blunt truth.

“Everybody knows. They just don’t talk about it. Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always real nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. But Frank didn’t like it. And when Jessie went missing, Frank was sure that Luther had done something to her. Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn’t know.“” Mr. Garland filled in the small gaps of what happened to his brother. You learned the murder of Luther was all just done because of a protective husband. He never learned before it was too late, he’d rather beat out the answers, fear clouded his actions before the real truth came out after it was too late, ending in a vicious death. “They found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant till he was past dead.”

“And O’Brien was never arrested?” Dean asked.

“I screamed to every cop in town.” Mr. Garland admitted. “They didn’t want to look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the town freak.”

“You must have hated Frank O’Brien.” Sam said.

“I did for a long time, but, life’s too short for hate, son.” Mr. Garland chuckled out, it was clear he’d come to terms with the past. Dean nervously swallowed from what he heard the main say. “And Frank wasn’t thinking straight. His wife had vanished. He was terrified. A damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but, that’s fear. It spreads and spreads.”

\+ + +

You and the brothers headed out when you got the information you needed. It was enough to start drawing conclusions about what happened to Luther and explain why Dean was a target. Now it was just a matter of finding out how to burn the remains of someone who was torn to shreds down a blacktop road. You noticed that time slipped faster than you realized, the sun was setting and night was creeping close.

“Now we know what these are,” Dean broke you out of your thoughts, you looked down at his arm that was covered in the suit you forced him to wear. But you knew what he was pointing out from what he said next. “Road rash, and I’m guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road.”

“Makes sense.” Sam said. He loosened his tie and headed for the Impala, where he took his rightful place next to the passenger side before he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the top of the car. "You’re experiencing his death in slow motion.”

“Yeah, well, not slow enough, huh? Say we burn some bones and get me healthy.” Dean said. It was nice to see his mood shift more into a positive one, but it wasn’t going to be that easy. You let out a sigh and tilted your head to the side, Dean could tell from your facial expression that was what you were about to say. “No, no. Don’t give me that look, Y/N. It’ll be that easy. Why wouldn’t it be that easy?”

“Luther was road-hauled. His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There’s no way we’re going to find all the remains.” Sam explained the gritty details his brother didn’t want to hear. Dean began to start breathing sharp and shallow breaths. “Look, we’ll just have to figure out something else out.”

“You know what?” Dean muttered to himself. “Screw this.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dean.” You quickly called out, watching as the man began walking away from the driver’s side. You stopped him for a moment before he could get away. “Come on.”

“No, I mean, come on, Y/N.” Dean croaked out with a nervous tone. “What are we doing?!”

You furrowed your brow, “We’re hunting a ghost.”

“A ghost—exactly. Who does that?” He asked.

“Us.” You said, continuing to play along with this game.

“Us? Right. And that, Y/N—that is exactly why our lives suck. I mean, come on. We hunt monsters! What the hell?! I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run. But not us—no, no, no. We—search out things that want to kill us. Yeah? Huh? Or eat us! You know who does that? Crazy people!” Dean ranted and raved on about what was bothering him. You and Sam stood there and listened to every word he said. “We are insane!”

“…You done?”

“No! Then there’s the bad diner food and then the skeevy motel rooms and then the truck stop waitress with the bizarre rash.” Dean went on. Your nose wrinkled at the last thing he admitted, you knew that was something you were going to talk to him about after this case was done. “I mean, who wants this life, guys? Huh? Seriously? Do you guys actually like being stuck in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day? I don’t think so! I mean, I drive too fast, and I listen to the same five albums over and over again, a-and I sing along. I know that. And you,” He stopped rambling about himself for a moment so he could gesture an arm at his brother. What he said next made a muffled chuckle escape. “You’re gassy! You eat half a burrito and you get toxic! I mean, you know what? You can forget it.”

Dean tossed his brother the keys to his car, and before you could stop him, the man went walking off in the opposite direction. “Whoa, Dean.” You called out out for him again he’d stopped in his tracks one more time for you. “Where are you going?”

“Stay away from me, Y/N, okay? ‘Because I am done with it.” Dean hissed at you, he pointed a finger directly at you for another good measure. “I’m done with the monsters—and—and—and the hellhounds and the ghost sickness and the damn apocalypse. I’m out. I’m done. Quit.”

You looked over at Sam from what you heard, he let out a long sigh from what was going on with his brother. Without even saying anything, Sam knew you were going to follow behind his brother, hopeful you could track down the older man before he could get himself into trouble. You could track him down before the sun set, this was going to be a walk in the park.

\+ + +

“How the hell did you lose him?!”

You moved the phone away from your ear, Sam wasn’t happy after you called him to figure out the whereabouts of his brother. You stood outside of the motel room with your feet aching and pockets empty after you gave all the money you’d had to that homeless man after the oldest Winchester knocked all over his belongings from his episode. Dean’s hallucinations were kicking in, you could tell because he started thinking a small dog was a hellhound. The look in his eye reminded you of how he reacted to the real thing before he died. You shoved the key to the room inside the lock and twisted it open while you explained to Sam you’d exhausted all the possible places where his brother could be. As you stepped inside the room and kicked off your heels, you looked over to see someone you weren’t expecting to be sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nevermind. I found him. Yeah, will do.” You wrapped up the conversation with Sam and shut the phone. You walked over to Dean, getting ready to rip him a new one. “What the hell, Dean? Sam and I were looking everywhere for you. How did you get here so fast?”

“Ran.” Dean answered. You could tell from his sweaty appearance and heavy breathing. You let out a sigh before walking closer, you took a seat across from him on a chair. He looked around the room before turning his nervous gaze over at you. “What do we do now? I got less than four hours on the clock. I’m gonna die, Y/N.”

“Yeah, you are.” You agreed. Dean blinked at the honesty that wasn’t like you. “You’re going back, Dean.”

“Back?” Dean hesitantly asked.

“Downstairs, Dean—Hell. It’s about damn time, too. Truth is,” You leaned in closer so you were staring at him directly in the eye. Dean could feel his heartbeat beginning to grow faster when he saw your eye color change. You were staring at him with black eyes. “You’ve been a real pain in my ass. Just the sight of you makes me sick to my stomach. I remember everything. I know what you did to me. And I know for a fact when you get back to Hell, Dean, they’re gonna do the exact same to you. But I get to give you the first glimpse—just to jog your memory.”

Dean should have known there was something wrong. He tried his hardest to lunge at you, but all it took was a simple swing of the arm and he was pinned against the wall. You smirked to yourself at the sight of him squirming, like an insect caught in the spiderweb. “No!” Dean growled out. “You get out of her, you evil son of a bitch!”

You let out a throaty laugh from what he thought, you pushed yourself up to your feet and walked forward to him. “No one’s possessing me, sweetheart. This is what I’m going to become. This is what you made me become, Dean.” You hissed at the man, you placed your hands on his shoulders. He could feel them getting tighter as your eyes flickered to black again. “You made me into this monster. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His breathing became cut off when he felt your hands wrap around his neck, squeezing whatever air you could to make his final moments of life painful as possible. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you watched him squirm around, but he was too caught up in the hallucination to realize you weren’t really hurting him. He soon figured this out when he felt himself being roughly pushed against the wall again, breaking the vivid imagery into the reality of the situation.

Instead of staring at him with a sinful smirk and demon eyes, you looked worried sick and eyes drawn wide. Instead of your hands wrapped around his neck, he could feel your clammy palms against his cheeks, trying your hardest to get him back into reality. You chanted out his name in a worried tone, thinking for a second you’d lost him. Dean forced himself into taking the deep breath mantra you’d done with him earlier today. Your hands dropped down to his chest as you gave him a weak smile, thankful he’d been okay for now. He nervously swallowed from what happened between the both of you. He was starting to crumble, not sure if it was because the terror of this sickness was kicking in. Or the guilt of what he really did to you in Hell was becoming too much for him to handle. And it took the fear of going back there to face his punishment that rattled him straight to the core.

\+ + +

Babysitting a grown man was going to be easy, it was almost like watching a toddler. You plopped him in front of the TV and turned on some old rerun of Gumby and Pokey, an old claymation cartoon that seemed to have done the trick to keep him quiet. Sam left an hour ago to head back to the old factory after he called Bobby when the deadline to figuring out a cure for this ghost sickness was hitting the two hour mark. You rubbed your tired eyes with your hands and yawned when Dean wasn’t looking, everyone had been up for two days now without any sleep, while the oldest Winchester was wide awake from the adrenaline, you were trying your hardest to get the energy to grab that second cup of coffee. Finally, after much persuasion, you managed you pushed yourself off the chair you’d been lying in since the morning arrived and began heading for the small kitchen area to pour yourself that well deserved cup of caffeine before you fell asleep.

Dean scratched at his forearms when he noticed you weren’t looking. The wounds on his arms were far gone from being normal, he’d picked and torn at the skin until it was raw and bright red, he couldn’t help himself as he continued on watching the cartoon until it got too graphic for his comfort, which then he quickly shut it off. The room fell silent for a moment, the only noises he heard was the steady pounding of his heartbeat and the clanking of the spoon against the ceramic cup. Dean closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, he covered his face and sucked in a deep breath, trying to remember the breathing techniques you taught him. He could feel it starting to slowly work, his muscles eased slightly as he sank deep into the comfort of the couch, giving him a sense of peace and quiet for a split second. But the foolish feeling didn’t last very long.

His eyes ripped wide open when he heard it again, the spine chilling growl of a hellhound. He frantically looked over at you, thinking for a second you were staring at him with a smirk, making him wonder if what you said last night was about to come true. When he blinked again, you were still standing with your back turned again, unfazed with what was going on. “No,” He muttered to himself, quiet enough for him to only hear. “This isn’t real. None of this is.” But the pounding on the door was. He jumped out of his seat from the loud noise. He could hear you hiss a swear word underneath your breath when you stepped away from the boiling hot cup of coffee you accidentally slipped after the rude interruption made your energy spike up.

The pounding on the door got worse, and the barking echoed through the room. Dean’s heartbeat was getting worse when he realized the hellhounds were here for him again. He frantically jumped out of his seat and crouched down on the ground, trying to hide himself from the attack that was about to come. You furrowed your brow from what was going on. Leaving the coffee to drip off the counter and to the puddle on the floor, you crossed the room and headed for the duffel bag where the weapons were. You frantically looked around until you grabbed Dean’s pistol hidden at the bottom, just in time for the door to burst open. You drew the gun upward, pointing the barrel directly at the intruder. Who was standing in the doorway wasn’t someone who you were expecting to see. Your face scrunched up in confusion, it was the sheriff you’d talked to the first day you arrived. The deputy said he’d been under the weather. You knew from his disheveled appearance what he came down with—ghost sickness.

“Sheriff.” You spoke calmly, knowing you were in the presence of two men that were a hair away from going insane. Your eyes drew down from his right hand that was holding a gun, and it didn’t take much thought for you to realize it was loaded, your finger slowly inched to the trigger. Dean pushed himself to his feet, wondering what was going on. “What are you doing here?”

“Why are you looking into Luther Garland’s death?” The sheriff questioned the both of you. It was obvious he’d been involved, and knowing what Luther’s brother had said about the coverup, he’d must have used his power when he was on the force to help that. That’s why he was sick—and here waving around a gun at the group of Feds that were about to uncover the truth. Because the paranoia was starting to get the best of him, he was trying to keep the secret until he hit the grave.

“Hey, hey, you’re—you’re sick. You’re sick. You’re sick, all right? ” Dean suddenly found his voice, he pointed a shaky finger at the man. He looked down at the man’s arm to see a bloodstain on his uniform, exactly where the scratch marks should have been. Dean lifted up his arms to show the sheriff his own wounds to let the man know he wasn’t alone here. “Just—Just like me, okay? You got to relax.”

But the sheriff didn’t do that. Instead, he took the opportunity to attack you, giving the chance your head was turned to Dean, you stumbled backward and dropped the gun after the butt of the sheriff’s own gun roughly impaled itself into your skull. You were taken back from the blow, it made you stumble backward and cradle your throbbing head. “Frank O’Brien was my friend. So he made a mistake. So I didn’t bust him. So what? Are you and this bitch gonna bring me down over that?!” The sheriff hissed at the both of you, the unnecessary name calling directed at you caused you to look at him with an angered expression. “No, sir.”

The sheriff pointed the gun at Dean, thinking he was going to be an easy target with the look of fear creeping into his eyes when he found the loaded weapon in his direction. Dean proved to be useful when his hunter skills kicked in for just a moment, somehow, he managed to gain control of the situation by knocking the gun straight out of the sheriff’s sweaty palms. Both of the men stared at one another for a moment, taken by surprise at the act, now it was your turn to make your move. You lunged forward at the sheriff, shoving him to the opposite side of the wall so his back was pinned against it, you tried your hardest to get the words to calm him down, but it was the cheap shot to your gut that knocked the wind right out of your body. You tried not to let it affect you as you tried to swing up an arm to subdue the sheriff, but he roughly grabbed your wrist, using his free hand to knock another blow at you, now directing at your cheek You suddenly felt yourself being thrown across the room and to the floor, the sheriff wasn’t here for you, he had a bone to pick with Dean.

His eyes widened when he found the man lunging forward at him, his mind went blank for a moment with what he could do to protect himself. The sheriff shoved Dean into the brick wall and wrapped his hands around his neck, he began squeezing the air out of Dean hard as he could, the man tried to push the officer away with the palm of his hand, Dean grunted in frustration from the awkward angle. The sheriff took one hand off Dean’s neck and punched him in the stomach, trying to get him to stop struggling. Both men shared a series of punches, all while, Dean could feel his heartbeat pounding faster, the adrenaline was kicking in faster, making his vision go blurry.

Dean was struggling to win this fight, but when he looked into the sheriff’s eyes, he was horrified to see the man was staring at him with inky black eyes. He was possessed. He wasn’t he sheriff. It was a demon here to kill you and him. Dean could feel his strength beginning to kick in from the thought, and without him realizing it, he pushed the man right off his body, easy enough to lunge him backwards and onto the glass coffee table. You watched as the weight of the sheriff’s body broke the table, you flinched at the sight of him lying there in a blanket of broken wood and glass. Dean stood there for a moment, shock settling in from what he’d done, but he slowly walked toward the man after you pushed yourself to your feet, wondering how much time the man had left. The sheriff wasn’t moving much; there was a thin sheet of sweat covering his face as his hands were clenched in tight fists, his heavy breathing wasn’t a good sign, either.

“Get away from me!” The sheriff shouted, his tone was filled with panic.

“Al,” You spoke the man’s name, trying to make him snap out of this. “You’ve got to calm down!”

The sheriff didn’t listen to what you had to say. He shouted one more command at you to stay back before he was were cut off from a groan of pain. His hands suddenly were pressed against his chest as you saw his eyes grow wide. His heartbeat kicked up in speed, going faster and faster, until—it stopped. After a moment of struggling, his body dropped to the floor with a small thud, his hands resting on his chest. You quickly looked over your shoulder when you heard the dresser shift around after something kicked it against the wall. Dean moved away from the body, his face draining from the color when he realized what just happened. You nervously swallowed, knowing in just under an hour this could be him.

\+ + +

He shouldn’t have been left alone. Dean sat at the edge of the motel bed with his attention on the sheriff’s body, who was now covered with one of the blankets from the other bed, but he couldn’t get over the fact that he was going to be like that soon. He nervously laced his fingers together as he tried to take a deep breath, but nothing was working, the words you spoke to him last night echoed in his head, the soundtrack of the hellhounds barks replayed over and over again until Dean was nearly rocked himself back and forth. He kept scratching at his wounds, hoping that would cause some relief. But it was only getting worse. He could hear the ticking of the clock, and his heartbeat pounding inside his chest like a drum. He just wanted all of it to stop. As his leg accidentally stretched out, his foot kicked something that moved a few inches. Dean looked down and picked up a book, his eyes widen when he realized it was the bible. Maybe it was a sign. He closed his eyes and pressed the book against his mouth, clutching the paperback close to him, hoping the new friend would help him. They said they needed him. So they wouldn’t let him die.

Dean heard footsteps crossing the room until there was a shift of weight on the bed. He thought for a moment it could have been someone here to help. “Hi, Dean.” The sound of a female voice brought his eyes open when he noticed it sounded familiar. He slowly turned his head to the side to see you were sitting next to him with a grin, but it was the white eyes that caught him off guard. He gasped and looked away, mumbling no underneath his breath. “Yes. It’s me—Lilith. Oh,” The demon who’d possessed you before killing him was sitting right next to him. He flinched when you leaned forward and hugged him. “I missed you so much. It’s time to go back now.”

He pushed himself away from your grasp that felt nothing like how it used to be, he felt terrified just at the sight of you. You sat back and blinked, your eyes going back to their normal shade. You pouted slightly from how he slithered away. “You—You are not real!” He shouted, pointing the bible at you. “You’re not possessing Y/N.”

“What’s the matter, Dean? Don’t you remember all the fun you and Y/N had down there?“ You asked him, drawing his gaze back to you. He watched as you got up from the bed and took a step forward at him. You crossed your arms over your chest when you answered for him. “You do remember. Four months is like forty years in Hell. Like doggy years. And you remember every grueling second.”

Dean clutched his chest when he felt a sudden kick of pain he wasn’t expecting. He let out a groan of pain as he stumbled to his knees, but you didn’t help like he hoped you would. You continued to stand there with your arms crossed over your chest and overlook the sight of him coming undone. “You are not real.” He muttered, hoping it would be enough to snap this hallucination of Lilith away. But it didn’t. You stepped forward and grabbed him by his face, he nervously swallowed when your eyes flickered back to white again.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still gonna die. You’re still gonna burn because of what you did.” You hissed at him, each word was laced with venom. “You deserve everything that’s coming to you.”

“Why me?” He couldn’t help himself but ask. “Why’d I get infected?”

“Silly goose. You know why, Dean. Sammy and Y/N don’t need you anymore. They’re mine. And you’re gonna suffer like how I want you to. You’re going to feel everything you put Y/N through. Like what you put all those souls through. You’re gonna scream and plead like they did.” You said with almost a playful, childlike tone. When you heard him start apologizing over and over again, your lips stretched into a smirk, knowing he was tapping into the old memories. He tried crawling away from you. But you only continued the taunting. "Listen to your heart. Ba-boom.“

Dean’s brow furrowed, "What?”

“Ba-boom. Ba-boom.” You continued on the chant, not giving him the answered he desired. When he realized the chant was for, he could feel his heartbeat kick up, his eyes widened when he felt the tightness in his chest getting worse. He fell to his backside and tried to fight off the heart attack that was about to come, all while listening to the childlike taunting. Your lips stretched into a grin as your voice get louder. “Ba-boom! Ba-boom! Ba-boom!”

Dean’s heartbeat was beating a million miles a second, he was curled up on the floor, too many noises to focus on. He closed his eyes and tried to block out everything, hoping the darkness would engulf his vision and make everything stop. He clutched his fists together and waited. Finally, he came to terms with the sweet relief of death. He deserved this sickness. And he sure deserved to go back to Hell. The only punishment he got was one month of torture. before he was offered the deal of a lifetime. He forgot about what Ruby had said to him about torture of souls, how it made them into demons. He didn’t realize he was jumpstarting the process. The pleasure he gotten out of it was better than anything he’d ever done. And it was true. He remembered every little detail from Hell, but he never said anything, afraid of how anyone would view him. He thought you and Sam were turning into monsters. But the sad truth Dean needed to realize was that he was one himself now because of what he did.

“Dean! Hey, stay with me!” Your voice, the soft and neutering kind, made Dean’s eyes rip wide open. He suddenly could feel a gasp, triggering a deep breath, he inhaled the smells of the minty aftertaste of toothpaste and a sweet smell of your body wash. He fixed his gaze on you when he started roughly coughing. You weren’t staring at him with a cruel gaze, instead, you were worried sick. Your face paled in color and you hovered over him, your hands placed on his chest. When you heard his heartbeat starting to kick back into a normal rhythm, your lips stretched into a warm smile when you realized he was okay. “Good, good. Keep breathing—deep breaths in….and out.”

He did what you told him to do. The both of you sat there in silence, trying to fight off the rush of anxiety you hadn’t felt in a long time. You smiled at him again, happy to know that he was all right. But in the back of your mind, you could hear him mumbling an apology one after another, your name following after each sorry. You wondered what he hallucinated during his last moments of the sickness, and why he kept apologizing to you for.

\+ + +

“So, let me get this straight,” You leaned forward into the backseat window of the Impala that was rolled down all the way. You grabbed a few cold beers from the cooler to celebrate a job well done from everyone. You offered one to Bobby, knowing it’d been his genius plan that saved Dean, but he shook his head, knowing he’d had a long drive ahead for himself. You turned and gave ones to the brothers, who graciously took the first round. You pressed your back against the car and twisted off the top, you threw it into the cooler for safe disposal for later. “You guys road-hauled a ghost with a chain?”

“Iron chain etched with a spell word.” Sam corrected you.

“Hmm.” You nodded your head. “Now, that’s a new one.”

“It was what he was most afraid of.” Sam said. “It was pretty brutal, though.”

“On the upside, I’m still alive, so, uh,” Dean lifted up his beer to cheers, “Go, team.”

You smiled at his cheesy attempt to congratulate everyone on their hard work. He’d taken a backseat when he almost became a victim himself. You looked at him from the corner of your eye before you took a swing of your drink. “Yeah.” You said, swallowing down the beer before turning your head to look at Dean. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Fine.”

“You sure, Dean?” Bobby asked the young man. “‘Cause this line of work can get awful scary.”

“I’m fine.” Dean repeated his same answer. He stared at Bobby with a serious look, trying to prove that he was really back to normal. His macho attitude was like him banging his fists on his chest, trying to prove he wasn’t scared of anything that came his way. “You want to go hunting? I’ll hunt. I’ll kill anything.”

Only instead to prove his masculinity, everyone let out a laugh, finding his confidence amusing. “Aw.” You cooed at him, you reached up a free hand to lightly pinch his cheek. Your smile grew when he flinched and yanked your arm away. “He’s adorable.”

“Well, this was fun,” Bobby pushed himself off his car and stood back to normal. “But I got to get out of here. You kids drive safe.”

You and the brothers thanked him for, yet again, coming to help save the day. You took another sip of your beer as you watched him head to the driver’s side of the car and get inside, a few seconds later, the engine roared to life before he drove away. All of you enjoyed the moment of silence, happy for a peaceful moment after this stressful hunt. You looked at the outside scenery of the old abandoned factory again, the grounds now cleared from Luther’s spirit after he was put to rest, and hopefully, given the peace he deserved. You brought the neck of the bottle to your lips as your eyes flickered over to Sam for a moment, then Dean. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I did…for hurting you.” His words kept repeating themselves inside your mind.

During your entire time of knowing Dean, he never hurt you with words or laid a single finger on you. He’d always been the one to treat you like you were made of glass at times. It was his way of protecting you from the darker side of life. And things between the both of you have been nothing but great. Still, it prompted a question to go off in your head. What was he sorry for?

“So,” You began another conversation with him as your lips stretched into a curious smile, hoping a friendly and safe approach would comfort Dean enough to break. “What did you see? Near the end, I mean. You were…pretty out of it.”

“Oh, besides a cop beatin’ my ass?” Dean wondered if that’s what you meant. You tilted your head to the side and raised a brow, really wanting to hear the truth. He inhaled a deep breath and began choosing the words right, thinking it was about time to admit a few things, see if you had recollected on the same grueling memories of Hell. But when you blinked after waiting for a long moment, he fell silent, swearing on his life your eyes flickered back. When he looked at you again, your eye color was the same, like how it’d always been. “Howler monkeys. Whole roomful of them. Those things creep the hell out of me.”

“Right.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at his answer.

Dean looked over at you when the answer he gave wasn’t the one you wanted. Both of you had agreed on being honest with one another about things, you looked over at the scenery ahead and continued to nurse your beer. “No, no, just the usual stuff, Y/N. Nothing I couldn’t handle, guys.” Dean admitted part of the truth, prompting you and his brother to look back at him, hoping he would give you some more insight. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

But you did, you always did. You knew Dean liked to build up walls and pretend that everything was okay, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. You knew there was a fight coming ahead for all of you, new enemies you’d once thought once were just fictional beings in a book, and being brought back from Hell wasn’t helping, either. But that wasn’t what was bothering you. It was the question that he wouldn’t answer. Your mind began digging, wanting to know what Dean Winchester had done in order to make him feel so damn guilty, that in his final moments of life, those were going to be his dying words. When you looked over at the man again, your lips stretched into a warm smile, he did the same to you. Both of you continued to pretend everything was normal.

Maybe the answer was right in front of you. Maybe it was the ignorance of loving the man that was blocking it from you finding out. But there was one thing you knew about the truth, it was that it always came out—and always at the wrong time.


	7. It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester.

Halloween was the one time of year where people could throw caution into the wind. It was all about dressing up in costumes of monsters people thought were fictional beings and getting candy from strangers. Nobody thought an old urban legend would have come true, you certainly hadn’t heard of it popping up in the news, not until yesterday afternoon until you came across a man name Luke Wallace. The story seemed innocent enough about a man enjoying a few pieces of candy his wife had warned him not to eat, knowing it’d been for the trick or treaters that would be coming tomorrow. Of course he didn’t listen, if he did, you wouldn’t be here right now. You learned through crime scene photos that Luke had died from internal bleeding after choking down at least a handful of razor blades. Where did they come from? The candy.

That’s how the old urban legend went; an innocent bystander would be eating a piece of candy to reward themselves for spending a night out around town knocking on neighbor’s houses for sweet treats. Instead it ended with Luke dying on his kitchen floor, leaving a grieving widow and a toddler son. You walked around the kitchen where the man had spent his final moments before choking up blood and razor blades. You glanced down on the floor to see that almost everything looked back to normal, but as you moved your foot to keep walking, you spotted a faint blood stain on the floor, reminding Mrs. Wallace of the tragic events. Someone wanted to play a few tricks on this family before the holidays, and knowing this line of work with its secrets people didn’t know about, you had a feeling this wasn’t some practical joke or manufacturer recall. It was only logical to think a witch and a hex bag could have been at fault for this.

“How many razor blades did they find?” Sam asked the woman, breaking her gaze away from you and Dean. The both of you weren’t engaging in the conversation like she thought. She stared at the two of you with an odd expressions of why you were lurking around the kitchen, not knowing you be saving her and her son’s life. But Sam’s question had her looking back at the man, remembering she hadn’t answered him just yet.

“Two on the floor, one in his stomach, and one stuck in his throat. He swallowed four of them. How is that even possible?” Mrs. Wallace couldn’t help herself but ask, never hearing of such a strange and violent act she couldn’t wrap her mind around. Sam knew the answer to her question, yet he remained silent, knowing this wouldn’t go out well if he told the woman of why they were really here. Mrs. Wallace turned her gaze away from the young man when she heard the squeaky hinges of the oven door being cracked open. She furrowed her brow at the sight of you peeking inside her cupboards and Dean lurking inside the oven. “The candy was never in that cabinet. Or in the oven, for a matter of fact.”

Dean automatically steps away from the appliance after being caught. He tries to stretch his lips in a small smile, knowing by the look on her face, this situation needs an explanation before she could throw all of you out. “We just have to be thorough, Mrs. Wallace.”

“Did the police find anymore razor blades in the candy?” You asked her, directing the woman’s attention back to the conversation as Dean continued to search for this hex bag that was starting to become impossible to find.

“No. I mean, I don’t think so.” Mrs. Wallace contradicted herself for a moment before answering your question. You leaned against the island and listened to her speak, managing to block Dean as he searched through the kitchen. When he set his sight on the refrigerator after noticing strange markings on the floor, like someone moved it, Mrs. Wallace looked over at Sam. “I just, I can’t believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?“

"More than you think.” Sam sighed out. He looked away from the woman for a moment to check progress on his brother, only to his surprise, Dean was standing there with a hex bag hanging from his grip. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the woman. Knowing a witch was at fault for this, it was time to figure out who wanted her husband dead. “Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies?”

“Enemies?” She repeated after the man, not sure what he meant by that.

“Anyone who might have held a grudge against him?” You asked her, hoping to clear things up. Only she continued to answer your questions with another one. She still wasn’t sure what you were trying to get at. So, you tried giving her a few examples that might help figure out who wanted Luke dead. “Co-workers. Neighbors. Um,” You swallowed slightly from what you were about to say, hoping she wasn’t going to take offense to what you were about to suggest. “Maybe a woman?”

“Are you suggesting an affair?” She questioned back at you. From her tone of voice and sudden stiff body posture, you’d struck a nerve in the woman. You let out a sigh, asking if it could have been possible. She, of course, snapped at you from the accusation. “No! No, Luke would nev—” She stopped herself when you saw the glaze cover her eyes. She drew in a breath, trying to compose herself the best she could from the horrendous thought.

“I’m very sorry.” You apologized to her. “We just have to consider all possibilities.”

Mrs. Wallace’s face scrunched up from your answer. “If someone wanted to kill my husband, don’t you think they’d find a better way than a razor in a piece of candy he might eat?”

You pursed your lips together, knowing she had gotten you there, and if you kept up at this rate, everything about this cover would have been blown. You managed to give an apology and condolences to Mrs. Wallace before you were walking yourself out. Hopefully the hex bag would have been enough to fill in the gaps of why a witch wanted Luke Wallace dead.

\+ + +

Turs out, research wasn’t providing much information to figure out what was going on. Your feet were propped on top of the coffee table where three different books were open and Sam’s laptop laid near the edge. He examined the contents inside the hex bag, filled with things you’d never seen before, all though the younger man was able to identify it only after an hour of research. You spent the rest of the time lurking around, reading whatever you could about the contents inside. It didn’t give you the answer of why Luke Wallace was dead, however, you learned someone went out of their way to track down artifacts to put this hex bag together. This wasn’t made out of traditional animal bones and a piece of something that Liuke owned. What you found inside was things that dated back centuries. Whoever put this together, they sure weren’t messing around.

The sudden vibrations of a slamming door caused your attention to be ripped away from an informative article about the coin Sam had found inside the bag. You looked upward to see Dean had arrived back after doing some research of his own. You opened your mouth to ask him how it went, only when you noticed him ripping open into a piece of candy from the secret stash you tried hiding in the trunk for the trick or treaters tomorrow, your lips stretched into a frown. “Really, Dean? That wasn’t meant for your grubby hands.” You said. He gave you a smug smirk as he chewed on the candy. “And after that guy choked down all those razor blade?”

“It’s Halloween, Y/N.” Dean said, the piece of candy stuck between his teeth. “Live a little.”

You scoffed at his response as Dean walked forward to the couch where his little brother had been occupying. He took a seat on the armrest and proceeded to continue opening up another piece of candy after swallowing down the one he’d been previously chewing. “For us, everyday is Halloween.” You said, giving him the honest truth.

“Don’t be a downer. You’ve been hanging way too much around Sam.“ Dean tried lightening up the mood with a joke, aiming it directly at his little brother. aiming the blow directly at his little brother. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a small chuckle, Sam never took his gaze away from the computer when he rolled his eyes from the man’s childish antics that were never funny. "Anything interesting?”

“Well, we’re on a witch-hunt, that’s for sure. But this isn’t your typical hex bag. Goldthread,” Sam grabbed an old and dried out plant that’s somehow spiraled on its own before explaining what was so special about it. “An herb that’s been extinct for two hundred years. And this is celtic, and I don’t mean some new age knock-off. Looks like the real deal—like six hundred-years-old real. And, uh,” He looked around for the last piece, only to find that his brother had grabbed and sniffed it to figure out what it was. “That is the charred metacarpal one of a newborn baby.”

Dean’s face scrunched up in disgust as he dropped it back down to the fabric where it came from. He tried dusting off his palms to get rid of the evidence that he never touched it. Sam didn’t even hesitate to grab it again to examine it. “Relax, dude.” He said. “It’s at least a hundred years old.”

“Oh, right, like that makes it better? Witches, man.” Dean shuddered. From what you’ve seen and read about them, they weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. “They’re so freaking skeevy.”

"Well, it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. And I’m presuming this is something way stronger than you guys have ever dealt with before.” You said. Before you could say anything else, you placed a hand against your temple when you felt a headache starting to form. Maybe it was because this hunt was turning out more stressful than you thought. It’d been happening since you got into town. Thankfully it went away after a moment, giving you a chance to focus again on what was going on. You shook your head and looked over at Dean, wondering if he had found anything useful to figure out this witch was. “What about you—find anything useful on the victim?”

“This Luke Wallace—he was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy.” Dean’s answer wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “I can’t find any reason why someone would want this guy dead.”

\+ + +

It seemed like this town wasn’t having a stroke of good luck. Later into the night, you gotten word of another death that ended on strange terms for the victim. What had been a Halloween party for a group of high schoolers, things quickly turned south after one of them wounded up dead. Details weren’t exactly clear of what happened. You learned enough to piece together that a harmless game of bobbing for apples between friends ended up with one of them dead. Thinking this could have been another death by witchcraft, you and the brothers headed over. to find the basement where the party was being held was now crawling with cops and forensic.

You looked around the inspect the sight of what few remaining teenagers that remained around. Most of them had been speaking in small groups, shaken from what they’d witnessed. A few were speaking to officers to get a statement and try to piece together what was going on. Most of it seems pretty standard of what you expected out of this disaster. You placed your hands on your hips and looked over at the boys, wondering who was going to tackle what. From the look on Dean’s face, his sight was already set on a young teeanger across the room. You looked around until you spotted what caught his attention; a young girl that looked enough to graduate high school, but it raised a few red flags in your mind.

“Yes.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. “I got this one, Sammy.”

“Oh. No, you don’t.” You whispered. You let out a small chuckle when you saw him take a step forward to the young woman. You snatched him by the arm and yanked him backward, she’d had jailbait written all over her pretty face. “I’ll talk to her. You and Sam have fun searching.”

You gave him a smile before you were pushing him forward to join his little brother to hunt down the hex bag that was hidden somewhere around here. You began walking forward to the teenager who was still wet from her participation with the game. She wrapped the wool blanket that was resting on her shoulders tighter as she continued to give her statement to the officer. “You know, it’s just so weird.” She said with a quiet voice. You walked forward, listening to what she had to say. “I mean, the water in the tub—it wasn’t hot. I had just been in there myself.” 

“You friend didn’t happen to know a man named Luke Wallace?” Your question brought the attention of the officer and the teenager forward to you, both of them looked at you with a strange expression. You shoved a hand inside your pocket and pulled out your badge, showing it to the both of them who you were. “Agent Seger—FBI.”

“Um, who’s Luke Wallace?” She asked you. 

“He died yesterday.” You explained to her, stepping forward when the officer headed off after he gotten the information he needed from her. You glanced away from the girl for a moment to catch up on progress with the brothers. Sam was tackling the couch, looking behind cushions and pillows as Dean tackled the small cracks of the basement to see if he could find the hex bag. “We believe his death is connected to your friend’s.”

She shook her head, “I don’t know who that is.”

The information she gave you wasn’t exactly helpful, let alone, lead you to figuring out who was in change of this mess. But when you saw Sam pull out another hex bag from the small space in between the cushions of where it was hiding, you nervously swallowed, at least knowing the same person was at fault for this. You turned your gaze back to the young woman to give her a small smile, you mumbled a thank you before you heading over to Sam. Things were getting complicated. With the body count how tallied to two, something was going on here, and you had a feeling revenge wasn’t at fault for this motivation.

\+ + +

You rubbed your hands against the aching jaw from all the candy you indulged in. Endless amounts of candy wrappers and coffee cups laid around the table, where you and Dean continued to research whatever could be going on here. The hex bag you found at the party had the exact same contents of the one you found in the Wallace household. It was clear enough you were dealing with the same witch, the only problem you were seeing was who? And why these victims? The life you lead before hunting was more exciting than the people you searched about over the past few hours.

“I’m telling you, both of these victims are squeaky-clean.” You admitted the truth, leading you to a wall that wasn’t helping at all. “There was no reason for wicked-bitch payback.”

Sam, who had been occupying one of the beds across the room, spent the rest of the time since arriving back with his nose stuffed in the books. He kicked his legs off and sat at the edge. “Maybe ‘cause it’s not about that.” He said, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Wow. Insightful, Sammy.” You replied with a sarcastic tone. “Tell me more.”

“Maybe this witch isn’t working a grudge. Maybe they’re working a spell. ‘Three blood sacrifices over three days—the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest.’” Sam read off the information from the book as he walked over to the table where and Dean sat. He took a seat before putting down the book next to you and him where the both of you began skimming the pages. “Celtic calendar—the final day of the final harvest is October 31st.”

“Halloween?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t really wanna know the answer to this, but,” You glanced up from the book to look at Sam before you asked him your question. “What exactly are the blood sacrifices for?”

“Uh, if I’m right, this witch is summoning a demon.” Sam answered. Your lips stretched into a frown from the answer you should have naturally known come out of this mess. But he wasn’t done yet explaining the details. You could feel the pressure weighing you down even more on your shoulders, this was just like last Christmas. Why were cases suddenly getting harder and more terrifying? You would be happy hunting down a ghost or a witch who wanted to strike some vengeance on some people that scorned them. Not the damn demon who started this holiday before it turned into costumes and fun sized candy bars. “And not just any demon—Samhain.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Dean asked with a nonchalant tone.

“Dean, Samhain is the damn origin of Halloween. The celts believed that October 31st was the one night of the year when the view was thinnest between the living and the dead. And it was Samhain’s night.” Sam explained the details to you and his brother, Dean listened as he continued to flip through the book. “I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago.”

“So even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck.” Dean guessed.

“Exactly.” Sam said. “Only now, instead of demons and blood orgies, Halloween is all about kids, candy, and costumes.”

“Okay, so, let me get this straight.” You said. “Some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?”

“Y/N, this is serious.”

“Sam, I am serious.”

“We’re talking heavyweight witchcraft.” Sam furthered explained the details. “This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years.”

“And the six hundred year marker rolls around…let me guess,” You presumed the answer before Sam could answer for your. “Tomorrow night.”

“Naturally.” Dean mumbled. With at least two blood sacrifices down, it didn’t leave much wiggle room to figure out who this witch was. And you still didn’t know the witch who wanted this demon out of Hell. “Well, it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon.”

“That’s ‘cause he likes company.” Sam said. “Once he’s raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own.”

You arched an eyebrow upward, “Raising what, exactly?”

“Dark, evil crap and lots of it. They follow him around like the friggin’ pied piper.”

“So we’re talking ghosts.” You presumed, Sam nodded his head. “Zombies?”

“Leprechauns?” Dean jumped into the conversation with an absurd monster that wasn’t even real. You got back at him by hissing his name and smacking him on his arm from how immature he was being right now. “Those little dudes are scary. Small hands.”

“Look, it just starts with ghosts and ghouls.” Sam leaned over the table to make himself clear, that what he was about to say shouldn’t have been taken lightly with a grain of salt and a cheap joke. What you all were about to face was not gonna be pretty if you didn’t stop this. “This sucker keeps on going, by night’s end, we are talking every awful thing we’ve ever seen, everything we fight all in one place.”

You nervously swallowed from the situation that was being handed to you. When you felt the pain in your jaw beginning to move to your head, you closed your eyes and leaned back in your seat. You tried massaging your temples and mouth at the same time, before you made your final conclusion underneath your breath that nobody wanted to hear right now. "It’s gonna be a slaughter house.” 

\+ + +

Halloween for most people meant the excitement for nightfall to dress up in scary costumes and getting candy, enough to fill a pillowcase. Instead of doing research that was starting to drive you up the wall, you decided to keep Dean company for the tedious stakeout that’s been going on hour six. You headed out of the Impala that was parked across the Wallace household to get some coffee. It was only a fifteen minute walk into town where you bumped into a pirate and a princess. It was children that couldn’t have been older than four, trick or treating during the day with a mother who was all apologies and smiles when she tried catching up with them. Sometimes you missed the simpler times in life. You missed holidays like Halloween, where you could dress up as monsters you still thought were fictional and get candy from neighbors that complimented and “oohed” over the costumes.

One Halloween when you were about ten, you gone trick or treating with a bunch of friends, you managed to score big—giving you enough candy to last until Thanksgiving. Since it was the weekend, you’d gotten to enjoy the sugar rush and watch specials on TV before retiring to bed. But without your mother’s knowledge, you snuck as much candy as you could to your bedroom and feasted all night long. Only it ended with her finding you throwing up all of the candy the next morning. The memory brought a smile on your lips as you began walking back to the Impala with two hot cups of coffee in your hands. You mindlessly put one on the roof before bending down and opening up the door, when you looked down at the passenger seat, your eyes widened at the sight which laid before you.

“Dean, what the hell?” You questioned him when you noticed the empty candy wrappers littering the interior of the car. You only left him alone for a half an hour, and here he was, trying to get himself into a diabetic coma. Or, by the way his face was looking, a one way ticket to spending the rest of the afternoon puking his guts out in the bathroom. Shaking your head, you got inside the car with both cups before handing it over to Dean for safekeeping. You began pushing wrappers to his side, still annoyed at the fact he was getting into the stash that wasn’t even meant for you all. You started to hear your phone going off, before it could get to the third ring, you answered it after seeing it was Sam. “Hey.”

“How’s it going?” He asked, curious to see how progress was for you both.

“Awesome. Besides the fact your brother is a bottomless pit, we haven’t seen anything useful. I talked again with Mrs. Wallace, but she hasn’t been helpful. I think she’s still mad at me from the presumption I made.” You admitted. “Dean and I have been sitting out in front of her house for hours, and we’ve got a big, steamy pile of nothing.”

“Look, Y/N, someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses.” Sam said, as if you didn’t realize that information already. “There’s gotta be some connection.”

“Thanks for the deduction, Sherlock. I just hope we find him soon 'cause your brother is starting to act like a—” You turned your head exactly at the right time. Your mouth parted open as you leaned forward in your seat when you spotted a teenager you’d talked to last night, Tracy. She walked down the sidewalk and headed straight to the Wallace household. “Son of a bitch.”

“Quit whining.” Sam said, not sure why you were in a mood. “I’m sure he’s not that bad.”

“No, Sammy,” You reworded your sentence, “I mean ‘son of a bitch.’”

You and Dean watched as Tracy headed up the porch steps of the house to meet a family she claimed to have never heard of before. Your grip around the phone began to tighten when the front door opened to reveal Mrs. Wallace and her son resting on her hip. Both of them seemed to know enough from how they greeted each other with smiles before Tracy was being handed Mrs. Wallace’s son. Something was wrong here. Either Tracy was lying about knowing Luke because she was scared. Or she was trying to cover up the connection to her victims when she smelled a hunter on her trai

\+ + +

You and Dean got back to the motel after seeing a connection that you hadn’t seen with anyone else. You told Sam about the information, he promised to figure out what he could before leaving the Wallace household. You tossed the motel key to the table when you caught sight of the youngest brother doing what you left him in the morning, researching. Just the sight of it made your head pound in annoyance. Since taking this case it was nothing but an endless migraine that wouldn’t end. Maybe it was the stress of this hunt that was getting you this way. You rubbed your eyes, leaning yourself against the table, praying this would go away by nightfall.

“So?” Sam’s voice brought your eyes snapping open. “Our apple-bobbing cheerleader?”

“Tracy? The Wallace’s babysitter.” You said, shrugging off your jacket before abandoning it in the nearby bed you were about to sit on. “She told he she’d never even heard of Luke Wallace.”

“Huh.” Sam huffed out. “Interesting look for a centuries-old witch.”

“Yeah, well, if you were a six hundred-year-old hag and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn’t you go for a hot cheerleader?” Dean asked. You furrowed your brow as Sam brought his gaze back to his laptop, trying to ignore his brother. You felt the bed shift around in weight when Dean took a seat next to you, and in that moment, the thought crossed his mind, bringing him to a fantasy that he couldn’t let go. “I would. Mmm.”

Your face scrunched up when you stared at the man, his lips stretched into a slight smirk as he stared off into the distance for a moment. When you were starting to get uncomfortable, you snapped your fingers in front of him, sending his eyes directing at you. “Need a minute, Dean?”

“Well, Tracy’s not as wholesome as she looks. Dig some digging like you asked.” Sam speaks again, bringing you and his brother back into the reality of the situation. You grabbed the laptop from him when he handed it over, you noticed he pulled up the local school website, and off to the right side, you saw a photo of Tracy. “Apparently, she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers. Got suspended from school.”

“Good work, Sammy. Get the teacher’s name?” You asked him. Sam tilted his head to the side, giving you a look that lead to a yes in your mind. You shut the laptop and handed it back to him, knowing that you had another stop, it was time to get dressed back up. “All right. Looks like we’re having a little teacher conference, boys.”

\+ + +

You don’t remember the last time you stepped inside the halls of a high school. Maybe since you graduated, which had been close to ten years now. You took in the sights of crowded hallways of students rushing to get to their next class and the sounds of lockers slamming around you, everything about it brought back nostalgic memories. The good and the bad. You and the boys followed down the numbers on the doors before you found the art room where Tracy had spent fifth period. When you stepped inside the room, nobody had seemed to be around just yet. You curiously began walking around the classroom to see all sorts of artwork done by students hanging around the place, Dean followed your trail and Sam wandered around the room to see if he could find the teacher.

You stopped for a moment to examine a piece of artwork done by one of the students, the detail caught your eye, Dean found something else capturing his attention. He glanced around the room to see the places was covered with plastered masks of designs that channeled the true meaning of Halloween. And as he continued on walking, Dean cranked his neck upward, noticing there was more masks hung up on the ceiling, but it’d been a particular one that stood out at him, making the man stop in his tracks to examine the details. The mask above him didn’t look like the rest with its sunken eye sockets and open mouth, like it was screaming. Dean swallowed when he noticed the parts were covered in a deep red crimson color, making it look like the parts were almost bleeding out. He could almost hear the voices and screams coming from the mask as the terrifying noises echoed in his head. He clenched his fists together from the nightmare of Hell that replayed itself in his mind.

“Bring back memories?” It was the sound of your voice that brought Dean back into reality, he broke his concentration away from the masks to see you were standing next to him. The question threw him off guard, not sure if you were talking about the subject neither one of you had even brushed upon yet. He wondered if you were feeling the same way, but the answer was a no when he noticed the faint smile on your lips as you looked around.

Dean cautiously took one more glance at the mask before turning his gaze back to you, wondering what you were talking about. “What do you mean?”

“Being a teenager, all that angst.” You said. You placed your hands on your hips and waited for him to respond with a witty remark about high school being a fun time for him. But he seemed a bit out of it when he muttered a response underneath his breath as he looked the ceiling again, prompting to you furrow your brow in confusion. “What’d you think I meant?”

“Nothing.” Dean chuckled out, covering his tracks before you could get suspicious of what has been going on. You nodded your head, dropping the conversation as Sam headed back to the both of you, coming up empty handed to find the teacher. Dean glanced around the room until his attention was captured by a student struggling to get a piece of his pottery work into the kiln. His lips stretched into a smirk. “Now that brings back memories. Right, Y/N?”

You looked over at the sight Dean pointed at, a small smile stretched across your lips from the sight. Back when you were in high school, you and the brothers shared a few weeks of normalcy in school after your mother died. Dean had been a bit more rebellious than his brother, ditching class a few times to hang out with you, and it just so happens one of them was art class. Your teacher was more focused on having her student tap into their inner spirit to create artwork that meant something rather than spend a minute to track attendance. Dean popped into class one day to check up on you, but with a little white lie, the teacher thought he was one of her new students. It probably wasn’t right, but you didn’t care. You looked it as an opportunity to spend more time together before the boys were back on the road with John.

“You gentlemen wanted to talk to me?” A male voice coming from behind caught you off guard, you looked away from the sight before over the shoulder to see who was coming from behind you. The teacher arrived back to the classroom with a cardboard box in one hand and balanced a fresh cup of coffee on top. He greeted you all with a smile, but when he noticed you standing at the edge, his face fell slightly from the mistake he previously made. “And lady. My apologies.”

You shook your head, a smile spreading across your lips. "It’s okay. You must be Mr. Harding.”

"Oh, please. Don.” He corrected you. He shifted around the box so it was a bit more stable, he reached out a hand for you to shake. Your smile was beginning to become forced from what you heard him say next. It was always a personal pet peeve of yours when teachers tried to use it as a way to see more approachable. You thought it was tacky. “Even my students call me Don.”

“Yeah, we get it, Don.” Dean stepped out of the way for the man so he could put the materials down before they dropped on the floor, he mumbled a comment underneath for the spite of things. You softly nudged him in the arm and gave a disapproving frown, knowing it wasn’t the time to start making sarcastic remarks with time running out. He took the silent cue and walked forward, all of you pulled out the fake badges to formally introduced you three. “Um, I’m Agent Giddy. This is Agent Lee and Seger. We just had a few questions about Tracy Davis.”

“Uh, yeah, Tracy.” Don repeated the student’s name and nodded his head. You were almost expecting for him to say how she’d been a problematic student, always causing trouble in his class. But never said that. He went on about Tracy like she hadn’t nearly tried going after him a few days ago. “Bright kid, loads of talent. It’s a shame she got suspended.“

Your face scrunched up in confusion. "You two, uh,” You tried wording this best as you could, thrown off from his casual demeanor. “Had a violent altercation, though.”

Don let out a quiet laugh from the way you were speaking, he turned around to grab the coffee cup from the table so he could explain his side of the story. “Yeah, she exploded. Uh, if Principal Murrow hadn’t walked by when he did, Tracy would have clawed my eyes out.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. Sam asked why, wondering what could have been the trigger for her to explode, to the point where she would harm someone. From what you heard next, you were beginning to see more and more like the witch you were hunting down. “You know, I was only trying to rap with her about her work. It had gotten inappropriate and disturbing.”

“More disturbing than—” Dean couldn’t help himself but bring the attention back to the masks he’d been observing earlier. You glanced around to see most of them had been a bit strange to look at. But with Halloween, you’d hadn’t really thought much more of it. “Than, uh, those guys?”

“She would cover page after page with these bizarre cryptic symbols. And then there were the drawings—detailed images of killings, gory, primitive.” Don explained the matter about his student, leading more into detail about a type of behavior that showed Tracy was harboring more than just teen angst. “She would depict herself in the middle of them, participating.”

“Symbols? What kind of symbols?” Sam asked the man. He shoved a hand inside his pants pocket before retrieving the small coin you’d found in both of the hex bags. He lifted it up for Don to examine and see if anything might have caught his attention. “Uh, anything like this?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Don said after taking a moment to examine the coin. “I think that might have been one of them.”

“You know where Tracy is now?“ You asked, hopeful he could lead you here whereabouts.

"I would imagine her apartment.” Don answered. You were surprised from hearing this as you repeated after the man, your voice turning your sentence into a question. She was a little too young to be out on her own. But from what you read on her school information, she was posing as an eighteen year old, the perfect age to be legally out on her own without parental guidance. “She got here about a year ago alone, as I understood it, as an emancipated teen. God only knows what her parents were like.”

You looked over at the brothers from the information that was putting the pieces together. This witch must have arrived into town to have a little fun, she got herself settled into living a life of a pretty high school senior before the fun got started. She made connections with friends and the Wallace family, luring them with a false reality of hers before just a few days ago when her real self began coming out. She was probably getting antsy to start this ritual, that might have explained at the crude drawings and reasons for attacking her teacher from the unwanted criticism. Or, just maybe, it would have been easier for her to get suspended so she could spent the rest of Halloween hunting down her last victim.

\+ + +

You thought tracking down a witch posing as a teenager would have been easy. It wasn’t. Tracy was targeting people she was close to with in her fantasy life, but the victims didn’t share any sort of connection, they didn’t even know each other. Which meant the police would have never made the presumption like you did. They just thought it was Halloween, strange things around this time happened. You talked to a few students and teachers to see if you could make a list of who Tracy was friends or acquainted well enough with. You presumed she could have been targeting one of them, but to your disappointment, everyone was accounted for at school, except her. You looked away from your laptop when you heard the familiar rumbling sounds of the Impala’s engine coming from outside, signaling the brothers’ arrival back from searching around town to see if they could have found Tracy. Shutting your laptop, you headed outside to see them both getting out of the car. And from the looks on their faces, they didn’t find what all of you were looking for.

“So?” You called out to them, walking forward to meet them. “How’d it go?”

“Tracy was nowhere I could find.” Sam admitted the truth. “Any luck with her friends, Dean?”

"Luck is not our style. Friends don’t know where she is.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes from the dead end you were getting here. The three of you began walking to the brothers’ motel room to regroup. “It’s like the bitch hopped a broomstick.”

“She could be making the third sacrifice any time.” You noted. “Midnight isn’t that far away.”

“Yes, thank you, Y/N.” Dean mumbled with a sarcastic tone. “Like we didn’t know that.”

You stopped walking when you saw their motel room come into view. You waited for Dean to unlock the door for all of you to head inside, but before he could fetch the key from inside his pocket, he looked down when he heard an unfamiliar voice. “Trick or treat.” You saw a little kid getting started on getting his share of candy. Your lips stretched into a smile from his creative costume that was an astronaut, and a pretty damn good one. He reached out a hand to show off his orange bucket, Dean wasn’t amused like you or Sam.

“This is a motel.” Dean stated as he waved around a finger in the air.

“So?” The kid asked, not caring about his unusual change of route most wouldn’t think to do.

“So we don’t have any candy.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow from what he said, you tried to say there was still a good amount left after you tried hiding it from Dean and his grubby fingers. But the man cut you off, prompting you to look at him with an angered expression from his lack of self control. “We did, but it’s gone. Sorry, kid. We can’t help you.”

“I want candy.”

“Well, I think you’ve had enough.”

Isn’t that the kettle calling the pot black. You scoffed at Dean’s remark that was a bit harsh, the little boy narrowed his eyes and glared at the man, prompting Dean to be taken back from the look, as if he wasn’t expecting it. You left him alone as the little boy began walking off to the other rooms, you followed behind Sam who was using his own key to head into the motel room. You were about to step into the room, but it seemed the younger man found a stranger sitting inside the room, prompting him to take precaution. He drew out his gun and pointed it forward as he shouted to the person. You quickly looked to see who it was, wondering if it was a real threat, but from the familiar trench coat, your face dropped in realization of who it was.

“Sam, Sam, wait!” You shouted at the man. You reached out a hand for him to lower his weapon so he wouldn’t make an impression about himself that would make things worse. Sam gave you a skeptical look, you let out a quiet sigh. “It’s Castiel, the angel. Him,” Your gaze was drawn to another shadow that was lurking in the distance, you spotted another man standing at the window with his back turned to all of you. You furrowed your brow. “I don’t know.” 

Sam didn’t notice the other stranger, his focus was kept on the angel who walked forward. His face was dropped in astonishment, for seeing a creature he’d secretly believed in and standing in the flesh, this was like Christmas. From the look on his face, he was nothing but happy. “Hello, Sam.” Castiel greeted the man. Sam’s lips stretched into a small smile.

“Oh, my God.” Sam muttered with absolute shock, he tried hiding it, but the feeling was inevitable. You couldn’t help yourself but let a smirk spread across your lips when you watched him become almost bashful and gitty, trying to correct his mistake. Castiel stood there with an indifferent expression. “Er, uh, I didn’t mean to—sorry. It’s an honor. Really, I-I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Sam continued being friendly with the angel as he stuck out his hand, wanting to continue the formal greeting with a handshake. Castiel stood there for a second, you weren’t sure if he was clueless of what to do next. You quietly cleared your throat as Dean shut the motel door, wanting privacy from the outside world. After a moment, Castiel shook hands with the young man. “And I, you.” Castiel said. This moment was almost nothing but perfect for Sam, but as Castiel continue on, you winced at what he said next. “Sam Winchester—the boy with the demon blood. Glad to hear you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

Your attention was drawn forward to the man that kept his back still turned to everyone. You furrowed your brow from his lack of effort to make a good impression. "Yeah, okay, Chuckles.” Dean said, shaking his head before looking at the angel in front of him, he made sure to drop his voice to a lower tone from the question he asked. “Who’s your friend?”

“This raising of Samhain,” Castiel ignored his question for another. “Have you stopped it?”

“Hello to you, too, Cas.” You mumbled underneath your breath. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Dean,” Castiel merely skipped over your question as he focused his gaze on the man standing in front of you. He was acting like you weren’t standing right across from him. “Have you located the witch?”

“Yes.” You answered before Dean could. “We’ve located the witch.”

“And is the witch dead?” Castiel asked you.

“Do you see us singing ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’ by any chance? No.” You said. Sam stared at you with surprise from your remark and Castiel wasn’t even the slightest bit amused from your snarky attitude that was already starting to come out. Whenever you and him were in the same room, it seemed both of you bumped heads. Today was no different. “We know who it is, though.”

“Apparently, the witch knows who who you are, too.” Castiel said. He walked over to the other side of the room, fetching something from the nightstand before lifting it up. When you noticed the angel was holding a hex bag, you swallowed in the realization he’d managed to save your lives before the last victim Tracy needed became one of the boys. “This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn’t found it, surely one or both of you would be dead. Yet, strangely enough, we didn’t find one in your room, Y/N. And since your so full of answers, do you know where the witch is now?”

“We’re working on it.” You said. “Why do you care?”

“The raising of Samhain is one of the sixty-six seals.” Castiel explained.

“So,” Dean piped into the conversation. “This is about your buddy Lucifer.”

The stranger spoke up again, “Lucifer is no friend of ours.”

“Uh,” Dean corrected himself for the man. “It’s just an expression.”

“Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs.” Castiel was giving information that you heard a few times over from him. You knew the ritual was beginning to come to a close, giving everyone little time to figure out how to stop it before another seal was broken. If it did, Lilith would get exactly what she wanted. You didn’t need to be told about the dangerous consequences that could lead if you all weren’t careful enough. You’d been to Hell, dealt with demons that shook you to your core and haunted your thoughts still to this very day.

“Okay. Great.” Dean said, nodding his head in agreement. He thought the reason why Castiel was here was only for the warning, or to nudge all of you into the right direction. But you doubt this hunt would have been that easy, or the angel was here to give a helping hand. If Castiel knew where the witch was, he would have taken care of it himself and not bothered to show his face. “Well, now that you’re here, why don’t you tell us where the witch is?”

“Were are not omniscient. This witch is very powerful.” Castiel admitted to all of you, giving you more of an insight of why he was really here. It wasn’t because he wanted to check up on how things were going. It was because he needed your help. You crossed your arms over your chest and listened as he continued on. “She’s cloaked, even to our methods.”

“Okay, well, we already know who she is.” Sam said. Being the optimist that he was, Sam tried to make a plan which could work for everyone. “So, if we work together—”

“Enough of this.” The stranger cut off the young man before he could finish his thought.

Dean sure had enough of the stranger’s behavior that was nothing short of rude. He rolled his eyes from what unfolded before he shouted at the man. “Who are you, and why should I care?”

The stranger turned around in his spot and gave Dean almost an amused expression, not flinching from his snarky attitude that was him trying to be serious. “This is Uriel.” Castiel finally introduced you three to the man, and from what you could presume, it was an angel friend of his. “He’s what you might call…a specialist.”

“What kind of specialist?” You asked him. It was a simple question, but the silence that followed after was what made you feel uneasy. You looked at Castiel for an answer, yet he remained silent, you could see the almost painful answer he was hiding from you, prompting you to become suspicious. “What are you going to do?”

“You—the three of you, you need to leave this town immediately.” Castiel said. You gave him a confused look from the warning he was giving, Dean asked why. The answer he gave you was clear, and something you didn’t want to hear. “Because we’re about to destroy it.”

“So this is your plan?” Dean questioned the both of them with shock at what he was hearing. “You’re gonna smite the whole freaking town?”

“We’re out of time.” Castiel said. “This witch has to die. The seal must be saved.”

“There are a thousand people here.” Sam said, trying to get the angel to change his mind.

“One thousand two hundred and fourteen.” Uriel said in matter-of-fact voice.

Sam was astonished from what he heard, but his tone turned into anger, “And you’re just going to kill them all?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve…” Uriel trailed off for a moment. “Purified a city.”

“Look, I understand this is regrettable."C astiel was beginning to sense the hesitation coming from you and the brothers from their plan of action that seemed cruel in your eyes. You scoffed at his excuse. "We have to hold the line. Too many seals have been broken already.”

“So you were a bit slow at saving some seals, and now this town has to pay the price?” You asked him. You couldn’t help yourself but shake your head, disappointed from what you were hearing. Honestly, you thought someone like him, an angel who seemed so keen on not letting Hell break loose on Earth, he would have shown a bit more kidneys to humanity he was trying to protect.

“It’s the lives of a thousand against the lives of six billion.” Castiel argued. “There’s a bigger picture here, Y/N.”

“Right. Because you’re bigger-picture kind of guys. Maybe if you skipped out on sending me and Dean into the past, hell—Maybe if you didn’t sit around with your thumbs up your ass, we wouldn’t be wasting time on this argument. ” You hissed at the angel with a strong tone. “I’m not letting you kill a thousand people.”

"Lucifer cannot rise. He does, and Hell rises with him.” Castiel made his point clear as he took a step forward to you. You raised a brow and straightened out your shoulders, mocking his behavior of trying to be superior. “Is that something you’re willing to risk, Y/N?”

“We’ll stop this witch before she summons anyone.” Sam jumped into the conversation, bringing everyone’s gaze over to the younger man. He tried his hardest to come up with a plan that would make everyone happy. “Your seal won’t be broken, and no one has to die.”

Uriel had enough of everyone giving their two cents of what they thought was right or wrong. He might have been more powerful than you, but he was showing an attitude that struck a nerve in you. “We’re wasting time with this mutt and mud monkeys.”

Castiel looked over at the angel to see he wasn’t showing the slightest bit of patience to keep this argument going. And knowing the power he held, Castiel stepped backward and turned his back to the three of you. “I’m sorry.” Castiel almost whispered. “But have our orders.”

“No, you can’t do this. You—You’re angels. I mean, aren’t you supposed to—” Sam stumbled out his words, frustration and anger getting the best of him. And it wasn’t helping when Uriel cracked a chuckle from what the young man was trying to say. “You’re supposed to show mercy.” 

“Says who?” Uriel asked, the ends of his lips stretched into a smirk.

“We have no choice.” Castiel tried to continue on, but Dean wasn’t having it anymore.

“Of course you have a choice.” Dean argued with the angel. “I mean, come on, what, you’ve never–never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?”

"Look, even if you can’t understand it, have faith the plan is just.” Castiel said.

Your facial expressions scrunched into anger, you felt like he’d just slapped you right across the face from what he said. Everyone, if they didn’t believe in a higher power, at one point in their lives had been told to have faith in things. If something happens to them, it was meant to be. You told yourself that countless times. But you weren’t going to let a thousand people have a sealed faith that resulted in death because the people above couldn’t move faster. “You’re a son of a bitch. Both of you are.” You hissed at Castiel, your eyes throwing daggers at him when he looked at you. “How can you even say that?”

“Because it comes from Heaven.” Castiel argued again with you. “That makes it just.”

Dean shook his head, “It must be nice to be so sure of yourselves.”

“Tell me something, Dean.” Castiel drew his attention to the man, deciding to hit below the belt from what he said next. “When your father gave you an order, didn’t you obey?”

“Sorry, boys,” Dean decided not to waste anymore of his breath on an argument he wasn’t going to win. Instead, he jumped to the conclusion Castiel didn’t want to hear. “It looks like the plans have changed.”

“You think you can stop us?” Uriel questioned the young man.

“No. But if you’re gonna smite this whole town, then you’re gonna have to smite us with it because we are not leaving.” Dean walked forward to Uriel, making his point clear enough, and drawing out a point he’d been thinking about. “You went to the trouble of busting me out of Hell. I figure I’m with something to the man upstairs. You want to waste me? Go ahead. See how he digs that.”

“I will drag you out of here myself.” Uriel dropped his tone to a threatening one, showing Dean he was a force not to be reckoned with. But the man wasn’t afraid. 

“Yeah, but you’ll have to kill me. Then we’re back to the same problem. I mean, come on. You’re gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch? Sounds to me like you’re compensating for something. ” Dean said with almost too casual of a tone. If there was one thing Dean had a talent for, you knew he loved to be sarcastic and witty, using just the right amount of crude humor to get under people’s skin. Uriel remained silent. He looked at the angel once more before he began walking back to you and Sam. “We can do this. We will find that witch. We will stop the summoning.”

Uriel tried to speak his mind about the matter, but unlike the few times before, Castiel wasn’t going to listen anymore. It seemed there was something that the oldest Winchester said that had changed his mind. “Enough. I suggest you move quickly.” He said. “Time is of the essence here.”

Castiel didn’t need you give another warning before you and the boys were walking out the door. You headed out to the Impala that a few parking spots away from where you remembered. As you checked your pockets to see if had everything, you stopped in your tracks when your eyes lingered over to the hood of the car. Your lips began stretching into a smirk when you noticed the spots of white all over the black paint job. Dean didn’t the boy his treats, so he ended up with the trick. And he wasn’t too happy about that. The oldest Winchester wasn’t thinking straight, because whenever something happened to Baby, even if it was a slight problem that could have been easily wiped away, he took it personally.

“Astronaut!”

If things couldn’t have been any worse, Dean thought all of you had enough time for him to scope out the parking lot to see if the kid was still around. You rolled your eyes when he went off, leaving you and Sam alone for a moment. Leaning yourself against the clean side of the car, you looked over at Sam, wondering how he was handling everything. He seemed lost in thought, he was processing what he just witnessed, and try to hide his disappointment. You lightly nudged him in the ribs with your elbow, wondering what he was thinking about.

“I thought they’d be different. I thought they’d be righteous.“ Sam admitted. You knew right away he was talking about the angels he’d just met, and from his first impression, it didn’t match up to the one he’d pictured inside his head. It wasn’t hard to see the disheartened emotion in his face. "I mean, this is God and heaven? This is what I’ve been praying to?”

"Just because there’s a couple of bad apples doesn’t mean the whole barrel is rotten. I mean, for all we know, God hates these jerks. Maybe the power went to their head and these angels think they can do whatever they want.” You tried your hardest to give reassurance to the young man. After all, this was a sensitive subject, you weren’t going let a couple of dicks change his mind about faith. Not everyone was alike. “Look at Ruby. Mostly all the demons we face are nothing but a-holes. But look at her, she’s done nothing but try to help us during this journey.”

Sam scoffed at your example, thinking it might not have been the best. It only made his mood shift downward. “Yeah, well, I don’t think Dean or the angels would agree with you there. They look at me like I’m a monster.”

“You’re only a monster if you act like one. So don’t give them a reason to.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “You’re right, Sam. Sometimes you have to take this curse and use it for good. I don’t care what Dean or those angels think of me or you. I mean, you didn’t ask to be like this. It was your—” You quickly stopped yourself from saying anything when you saw Dean coming forward, and by the look on his face, this wasn’t the time to bring up the subject. Clearing your throat, you changed the subject before anyone could get suspicious. “Find your astronaut?”

“No. The damn kid is faster than I thought.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath. You shook your head and sighed, knowing he was wasting time. Sam wasn’t paying much attention, his focus was on the small bone he found inside like rest. “Well, are you gonna figure out a way to find this witch Sam, or are you just gonna sit there fingering your bone?”

“You know how much heat it would take to char a bone like this, guys? A lot. I mean, more than a fire or some kitchen oven.” Sam said, beginning to wonder if all of you were looking at this wrong.

“Okay, Betty Crocker, what does that mean?”

“It means we have to make a stop.”

\+ + +

You and the brothers returned to the school shortly after five, giving you at least an hour before the sun was going to set and things were about to get worse if you weren’t right about this. You decided to take this lead on your own, giving the boys a chance to see if they could track down Tracy’s locker and find anything which could lead toward a clue of where she could be. Thankfully the school was empty except for janitors that were cleaning up the messes that students left, a friendly one let you in after you lied about leaving some important papers that needed to be graded. You headed for the art class when you realized the only thing that could have charred a human bone like that was a kiln. Students had access to it during school hours, but Tracy wasn’t suspended for charring newborn’s bones instead of clay.

You cautiously opened up the door and peeked around the room, wondering if anyone was around. But thankfully, the classroom was free from anyone. You quickly snuck yourself inside and closed the door when you heard footsteps coming from down the halls. You didn’t waste anytime in heading for the kilns, your focus was on Don’s desk. This was a long shot, but you had a feeling he was hiding something. The hex bags turned up in the boys room not after you talked to Tracy, but to Don. You were digging deeper, and you had a feeling you’d spooked him. You frantically searched through the endless amounts of papers and other things scattered around the desk, but you weren’t finding anything useful. Taking a step back, you bit your bottom lip and looked around to find anything. As your gaze dropped down to the drawers, you spotted a padlock on the bottom left drawer. Don didn’t seem like the type of teacher who would confiscate items from his students. Maybe he was hiding something from everyone. What was so important to keep under lock and key? You were about to find out.

Dropping yourself to a crouch, you grabbed something that resembled a hammer from the table behind you. You didn’t hesitate a second before you began roughly swinging away at the lock, you tried budging it right open. It took several tries until the lock broke under pressure. You placed the hammer at the edge of the desk before you opened up the drawer to see what was so important to be hidden away from everyone. What you saw made your stomach twist in horror. There was an entire bowl of tiny human bones, all from children. You fumbled to get your cell phone from your jacket, knowing that Tracy wasn’t the only witch you were hunting. Don had to somehow be apart of this. It’s the only thing that made sense.

Of course, things were never that easy. You’d been so caught up in punching Sam’s number, you didn’t hear the sounds of quiet footsteps approaching from behind. As your finger reached to hit the send button, a hand grabbed the hammer you abandoned after making the gruesome discovery. You never got a chance to make that phone call, because before you could stop it, your phone was being thrown out of your hands when something rough hit the back of your head, making your vision turn black.

\+ + +

Dean shoved another textbook off to the side and he tried digging deeper through the locker that’s filled with school books and binders with the occasional crumbled up notes from friends and pictures Tracy hung up of a teenage life she pretended to have while on the side. There wasn’t anything useful for him in here. No journal of all her savage drawings he heard so much about or children’s bones she used. He shut the locker door shut after spending another minute snooping and twisted the lock, making sure it was secure, as if all of you were never here. Dean turned around on his spot to look at his brother, getting ready to tell the man this was a waste of time, with the sunset going down in less than an hour, Tracy was probably getting ready to start the last sacrifice soon. He stopped when he noticed Sam had his attention drawn somewhere else. What there him off was the confused expression settling on the man’s face.

Sam stood there for a moment with his phone pressed against his ear as he listened to your voicemail that cut right in after he tried calling you. “Hi, you reached Y/N Y/L/N. Sorry, I’m not here right now. Leave a message with your name and I’ll get back to you soon as I can. Thanks!” Your voice was chipper and sweet, making what friends that got ahold of your personal number and past people who worked on cases would hear, making them believe you would stay true to your word. Sam didn’t get it. You always answered for him and Dean. And your phone was never off, no matter how pissed off you were at them. Last time he checked you seemed to be in a content mood, eager to get this case done before Castiel and Uriel chose their own way. With a sigh, he shut his phone.

“That’s weird.” Sam muttered to himself. He put his phone back into his pocket and looked over at his brother, who was curious to see what this was all about. “Y/N tried calling me but her phone keeps going to voicemail.”

They honestly hadn’t thought much of it. Both of them decided your phone must’ve died, it was the only explanation that seemed logical for this type of situation and headed for the art room where you’d been hiding out all this time. Dean wondered why all of you were here in the first place. He thought Tracy could have easily used the kiln when nobody was looking to burn the bones ahead of time for the hex bag, she could have snuck them in while working on a project for school. Thinking nothing more of it, the boys headed for the classroom and opened up the door, waiting to see you bent over in one of the kilns to see if you could find a fragment of some evidence. But what they saw was an empty, very quiet, room with the lights turned off. Sam furrowed his brow and stepped inside the room first, his arm reached out and touched the wall, felt felt around for a moment before finding a light switch and flipped it on.

Maybe you’d found exactly what you were looking for and were heading to them right now. In this line of business it was always about the timing. Both of them began wandering around the room to see if they could find you anywhere. Dean walked over to the kilns as Sam was drawn toward the desk where he noticed fragments of something lying on the ground. He walked over to see papers were shuffled around and the computer was in sleep mode. Things were only getting stranger when he looked down to see the bottom drawer had a padlock on it, keeping whatever inside a secret. The drawer was left open partly making Sam curious to see what was inside. He pulled on the handle and peered inside to see something that wasn’t just markers for art.

What laid inside was a small ceramic bowl of clean and fragile looking bones, ranging from the ones Sam found inside the previous hex bags, to one that looked like the bottom part of a jawbone from its tiny teeth that still remained. Sam’s attention was taken away when he heard the sound of plastic breaking. He looked over see his brother was heading over to see what he’d been looking at. Dean moved away his foot and glanced down at the ground, he noticed your phone was what he’d stepped on, or, what was left of it. Someone took the liberty and smashed to pieces, until remained was only plastic and glass bits. Dean wasn’t having a good feeling about this when his brother reached down and showed him the bowl of newborn bones Don kept hidden away.

“I’m guessing those aren’t for the dog.”

\+ + +

“There’s still time. We can find someone else.”

“No, there isn’t. And she’ll do just fine.”

It started with hearing voices at the top of the basement staircase, their shadows dancing across the concrete floor as you struggled to figure out what was going on or where you were. You let out a frustrated groan when the rope that must’ve been tied up to the ceiling wouldn’t budge, leaving the muscles in shoulders to continue ache from the foreign position you were in. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together from their conversation and voices of what was going on. Don and Tracy were in this together, and if you guessed correctly, siblings sharing different disguises to get this plan out perfectly. Tracy lured in the victims with her pretty charm and sparkling personality, Don used his equipment and knowledge to put those hex bags together before she planted them exactly where it was needed to get the human sacrifices started. Everything was going according to plan. Almost.

The last thing you heard was Tracy’s voice growing nervous about how this wasn’t going to work, they would be upset if something were to happen. Don didn’t seem to care one bit. She could had either be apart of this or back down now. You noticed the sun had set a long time ago with night in full swing; you heard the sound of childish laughter and squeals of delight when trick or treaters noticed how much candy they’d gotten before it grew silent after their chaperones ushered them off to the next house. Little did they know Halloween wasn’t going to be about costumes and candy. You struggled to crank your neck and look over your shoulder, you could see Don standing there with his back turned to you as he chanted out the ritual in Latin. You bit down on the gag and tried your hardest again to pull at your restraints. It only ended with your muscles tensing up and burning from the pain and your wrists bending at an angle you weren’t comfortable with.

There had to be a way out of this. But the thought quickly died as it came when you felt a pricking sort of pain coming from the side of your neck. You turned your head to see that Don was standing right across from you with a knife just centimeters from your throat. It only remained there for a moment before the cold, dull edge of the blade began tracing itself down your skin. You looked at him directly in the eye so he could see the disgust in your expression, he only smirked at you. This was what he’d been waiting for over six centuries. One little glare wasn’t going to stop him from taking back the beloved holiday. Now he was wondering how he wanted to get the blood needed to finish this summoning. You nervously swallowed when you saw him draw back the knife and placed it near your throat. Before Don could get what he wanted, something stopped it.

Gunshots were the first thing you can register before your eyes jump to the four wounds inside Don’s chest that were bleeding out before his body drops to the ground. You quickly look over, almost expecting to see Tracy standing there with the smoking gun, but to your happy surprise, the boys are standing there. It seemed everyone had come full circle into figuring out what was going on here. You see Sam draw back his gun as he headed for Don, wondering if the man is really dead. Dean puts away his own weapon before he pulled out a knife from his pocket, and with one swift cut of the rope, your arms are back to your side. You quickly untie the gag in your mouth and throw it to the ground. Sam nods his head when you look at the man lying on the ground, you let out a sigh when you know Don is dead. One witch down, one more to go.

You open your mouth to ask where Tracy is, knowing she’d been against this plan, you thought she was going to be the one to take her brother down. Before anyone can figure out what was going on, trouble followed you back again. There’s a shouted word of Latin again that sends everyone tumbling to the floor, a gut wrenching pain settles in, leaving you curled up on the concrete floor. Everything happens so fast, nobody is quite sure what’s going on before it’s too late. Tracy wandered down from her hiding spot to see things had worked out like she wanted. She trailed to the altar where all of the setup is laid out for her. She cranked her neck to peer over her shoulders, her lips stretched into a smirk when she sees that everyone is here, and you’re unharmed like she wanted.

“I guess if you want something done right you’ve got to do it yourself.” She muttered underneath her breath. She walked over to her brother, passing the three of you that laid on the ground, curled up in pain. She bent down to grab the cup and knife the man been previously holding before standing back up. “Did you hear how sloppy his incantation was? My brother was always a little dim. He always went for the pretty ones, too. He was going to make Y/N here the final sacrifice. And after everything I told him…But, now that honor goes to him.” She walked over to the dead body and loomed over it for a moment. “Our master’s return—that spell’s a two-man job, you understand?”

“You act like we give a rat’s ass.” You were lying on your backside with your eyes focused on the ceiling, your fingernails were digging into your clothes, hoping the pain would go away. “I swear, when I get my hands on you. I’m going to rip you to shreds.”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for six hundred years for this. Can you imagine? For six centuries I had to deal with this pompous son of a bitch. Planning, preparing—unbearable. The whole time, I wanted to rip his face off.” Tracy didn’t seen to hear your threat as she continued on talking. She bent down to now be at the same level of her brother and placed the cup underneath one of Don’s wounds. Tracy put the edge of the knife against the bloody gash and pressed, letting the blood fill up what she needed. “And then your handsome friend gets him with the gun. Oh, I love that.” She chuckled and got back to her feet when she got exactly what was needed to get the summoning finished. “You know, back in the day, this was the one night where you kept your children inside. Well, tonight, you’ll all see exactly what Halloween really is.”

Tracy took her spot at the altar with her back turned to you three. You could hear the chant of Latin begin again as the pain seems to be never ending, whatever she did, it doesn’t seem to be wearing off anytime soon. You close your eyes and try your hardest to move before things go exactly how she wanted. You turn your head to the side when you hear soft pants and pained groans. Sam was crawling across the basement floor, not to get his gun that he dropped after the surprise attack, but to dip a hand into the still warm pool of blood on the floor. You furrowed your brow in bewilderment when you see him do the unthinkable, Sam took the blood and smeared it all over his face like a mask. You ask him what the hell he’s doing, but your question only is answered when you feel the sticky and warm substance cover your face. You swallow down a noise to inform your disgust when you realize you have dead man’s blood on on your face. Sam sees your discomfort and quietly shushes you before he paints his brother’s face.

“Just follow my lead.” That was his only directions before you saw Sam lay back down on the floor and stay motionless. You and Dean follow seconds after, pretending to play dead for what was about to happen. You can feel the ground shake and rumble before a small crack opens up from the depths of Hell. A thick familiar fog of black smoke blows through the air before it settles on the dead body that is available for it. The demon takes over Don’s dead body before the entire room settles down to an eerie silence. You can’t help but see what was going on. Propping one eye open, you see Samhain has arrived.

Tracy turned around in her spot to see the demon push himself to his feet and began walking toward her. You see the both of them embrace in a romantic gesture, sharing a soft kiss before she pulled away, a smile settling on the ends of her lips. “My love.” She whispered. You hear a remark from the demon, about how she’s aged, it seemed the human face of a teenager couldn’t mask the centuries that had worn down to who she truly was. “This face, I can’t fool you.”

“Your beauty is beyond time.” Samhain reassured the witch in a soft tone. There’s a long period of silence, making you wonder if the demon and Tracy are having a moment together, trying to rekindle where they’d left off centuries ago. But it seemed Samhain had no more use for her. He was free and she’d been only dragging him down from what the desired out of this night. You flinched at the sound of her neck snapping, you knew she was dead before her body even dropped to the ground. “Whore.” 

You quickly become still when you heard the sound of footsteps beginning to approach you and boys, it’s not hard to tell Samhain feels another presence in the room. Your breathing stops when you hear him hovering over all of you for the longest half minute of your entire life. For a moment you believe the sloppy blood painted over your face wasn’t going to be good enough to hide yourself from the demon. But when you hear him stretch a leg over your body and step right near your head, you know it worked as Samhain traveled to the staircase before making his way up. When you hear the sound of the door shutting, you can feel the breath you’d been holding in finally come out, leaving you to suck in a sigh of relief. But the feeling only lasts for so long until you realize there was human blood on your face. You reach up a hand and cringed when you felt it start to become dry to the touch.

“What the hell was that?” Dean whispered.

“Halloween lore. People used to wear masks to hide from him,” Sam explained the reason for the spontaneous behavior. You understood the reasons, coming across the information when you were doing research. But it was the last part that made you angry. “So I gave it a shot.”

“You gave it a shot?” You hissed at him.

Tonight wasn’t exactly about testing new ideas to see what worked and what didn’t, there was a dangerous demon on the loose, and if you weren’t fast enough, the seal would be broken, leading Lilith to exactly what she wanted. You and the brothers got out of the basement, you found a couple of dish towels to clean off the blood from your faces before you were getting out of the house and stepping back outside to see the sight of the new age of Halloween in full swing. You passed by a group of kids as you followed behind the brothers, you made sure every drop of blood is clean from your face. It takes a quick brush of your fingertips across the skin before you come to the conclusion you’re clean. You let out a disgusted noise before you toss the bloody rag to the other side of the car, you make a mental note to clean it up. All you can think about is where this demon is going.

Where would you go to raise the dark forces of the night? A cemetery, of course. Dean mentioned something about finding one a few miles or so from here, and if you’re lucky, you can catch Samhain before the night turns into a monster mash. The car ride to the cemetery is quiet, giving you all a sense of peace for a moment. You sat in the backseat with your focus kept on the road and massaging your muscles that are still feeling tense. Sam adjusted his gaze away from the scenery that was passing fast to look at his brother for a moment, he peered over his shoulder slightly to take one look at you. Taking in a breath, he decides to let his idea out.

“So, this demon’s pretty powerful.” Sam started off the topic with a sentence that gives his a generic response from his brother, he heard you let out a heavy breath. Everyone knows what they’re about to face is a hard challenge, Sam tries to give the both of you a peace of mind from what he was about to suggest. “It might take more than the usual weapons.”

Sam can feel you staring at him from what he said, you are stricken with silence. You remembered what you’d told him earlier today. “Dean, maybe Sam’s got a point.” You speak up, trying to be the voice of reason. All though it was just a few weeks ago you were tearing the man down to stop doing the risky behavior. But after what you heard from Castiel and Uriel, how they treated people like nothing, you took each word they spoke with a grain of salt. “It’s just this one time. They would—”

“Y/N, no.” Dean snapped at you, not giving you a chance to finish your sentence. “Sam’s not using his psychic whatever. Don’t you two even think about fighting me on this. Ruby’s knife is enough.”

“Why?” Sam questioned his brother.

“Because the angel said so, for one.” Dean argued with his brother.

“Screw them!” You shouted with a bitter tone. “I thought you said they were a bunch of fanatics.”

“Well, they happen to be right about this.” Dean tried to silence the both of you with that excuse, only it ended with you letting out a scoff.

“I don’t know, Dean.” You said. “It doesn’t seem like they’re right about much.”

“Look, forget the angels, okay? Sam, you said yourself, these powers—it’s like playing with fire.“ Dean tries again to win this argument by bring up a point his brother said, back when he told the both of you he was going to quit. Sam rolled his eyes from the point his brother had got him with, he knew the man was right. But the both of you fall into a moment of silence, making Dean feel like he’s the bad guy here. He takes one hand off the wheel so he can grab the demon knife from his jacket and holds it for his brother as a sign of a truce. "Please.”

Sam stared at the knife for the longest time, he knew there was no debating about this anymore. He grabbed the knife and tucked it close to him, knowing the fight between everyone had ended, but another one was just about to begin. It took another few minutes or so of driving before the cemetery pulled into view. You and the brothers gathered what tools and weapons needed, not exactly sure what was going to be arriving soon, but it was better to be prepared for the worst.

What you weren’t expecting was to see a bunch of dumb teenagers throwing a party here. When you headed inside the building, the first thing you heard was the echoing sound of a gate rattling and panicked yells. You rushed down the steps to see a group of kids trapped inside with a locked gate, even though all dozen of them were pulling on the gates, it wouldn’t budge. Amongst the chaos, Sam took his opportunity to track down Samhain, leaving you and Dean to somehow get these kids free before one of them gotten hurt. But from the looks of blood that was splattered over the floor, you were a bit too late for that. You shouted for everyone to get back when Dean came up with a plan to shoot the lock free. Dean aimed the gun,and with one bullet, the gate doors slowly creaked open.

None of you needed to instruct the kids to get the hell out of here, they gotten the memo quite clear when the doors opened. You tried your hardest to push yourself through the crowd of bodies that were scrambling out to the entrance. You let out a breath when you looked around the place to see all sorts of tombstones in the crypt were shaking. It wasn’t hard to notice the first critter you were about to face were zombies when a tombstone from the third top fell down, breaking into pieces. You watched as a body began crawling its way out of his coffin, landing on his hands and knees, it wasn’t long before another one joined. And another one. You knew the fun tonight was only about to get started, and all though you’d never dealt with nailing a zombie to the floor, you were a quick learner. You grabbed the metal rod from Dean and settled your sights on the target in front of you. It’d been such a long time since you had a nice monster to hunt.

“Bring it on, Stinky.” Dean taunted the zombie.

Your fingers gripped themselves tightly around the handle before you were lunding yourself at the zombie. You took one, Dean took the other. It took a few minutes of wrestling the decomposing bodies to the ground before you somehow gotten control of the situation. You gotten your target to the ground, where you plunged the spike into its chest and pinned him down to the ground. You took a moment to get your breathing under control, not realizing how much strength it took to get them stuck into place. But your moment of peace and quiet only lasted before Dean found another one walking to the both of you, he spotted her from the corner of her eye. With one swift move, he was back on his feet with another rod in his hands, as he tried to take a swing at her, she disappeared before she popped up behind him.

Dean quickly turned around in his spot to see where she ended up, his face dropped when he realized there was one more problem arising after another was solved. But before she could harm him, you aimed and pulled the trigger of the shotgun, sending her into a puff of smoke from the salt round that would momentarily wound her. “Zombie-ghost orgy, huh? Well, that’s it.” Dean said with a frustrated tone of voice. “We’re torching everybody.”

“Later.” You said. You began loading whatever weapons you could forge or spilled out from the duffel bag and shoved it to him. “We need to find Sam before he gets himself killed.”

Silently agreeing with the plan, Dean grabbed ahold of the duffel bag to put the strap over his shoulder again before the both of you were making the journey out of the crypt, you began wondering where Sam could have gone as you ventured further into the cemetery. No matter what you were up against, you could feel the same nerve wracking feeling start to sit in the pit of your stomach with the same questions and thoughts filling your mind. What if the knife wasn’t good enough and he got hurt? What if all of you were too late? You could hear voices and noises coming from further down the hall, you quickly turn away from the hall you were taking a peek down to see what was going on. You and Dwan gave one another worried glances before the both of you were off, wondering if his brother was hurt. Only you stumbled upon a sight on Sam you’d only witnessed once. And the consequences of his actions left his brother speechless, and absolutely pissed off.

You stopped in your tracks and put out an arm to stop Dean from running after his brother, your fingers gripped around his jacket and tugged him closer to you, the worry that was building from what Sam was doing kept growing worse and worse. Because this wasn’t like the other time. He was in absolute pain. You could only watch as Sam excoriated the demon with his ability, his facial expressions were stained and almost looked like he was fatigued from the strain he was putting himself to. A trickle of blood began to slowly come out from his nose, a warning sign that should have been enough to make him stop. Yet he was so close to saving the day. Samhain tried forcing himself to get a little closer to the man, trying to win this fight, but he was no match for what Sam had.

You could feel your breathing come back to normal when you saw the familiar thick fog of black smoke come out from the man’s mouth and disappear into the cracks of the foundation, slipping back to Hell where Samhain belonged as the dead body he’d possessed dropped to the ground. Sam was won down from what he’d done, you could see it in his facial expression and body language, as he tried catching his breathing back to normal, his attention wandered over to you and Dean standing there in the end of the hallway. As your lips stretched into the faintest smile for a job well done, Dean wasn’t feeling all that happy. He seized his arm out from your grip that had grow loose when you saw that everything was alright.

You looked over at Dean to see how he was handling things, your face dropped when you saw him staring at his brother with a type of expression that made you feel like he was staring at a monster. Dean took his gaze away from his brother before he settled his almost disgusted look on you, knowing that it was you who pushed his little brother into doing something that could cost his life all over again. Dean backed away slowly before he was turning around on his heels, heading out of the cemetery, needing a moment of alone to himself.

\+ + +

Pitch black darkness is the only thing that you can see. Your shaking hands weakly brush against the wooden walls and ceiling that keep you confined in this foreign place. As you trace the cheap pine, you can feel the indents and small cracks of where you went mad—pounding and scratching for any possible weakness that could lead you out of this hellhole. If you guess correctly from the size and shape of the box, you woke up from a terrible nightmare to a makeshift coffin. It doesn’t take much to realize that you’re buried six feet underneath the ground, back from the dead. And nobody knows. You can feel yourself at the brink of another meltdown with tears and screams of terror from the thought, but the only thing that can come out is a pitiful sob. Your voice sounds hoarse and your throat feels dried out, there’s no moisture left as you roughly swallow down another attempt to scream for help.

The coffin is reduced to the eerie silence of your shallow breathing and small scratches outside of the box, making you wonder if you’ve really come back from the dead. You wince when you accidentally dig a splinter that was stuck between the small crack of your fingernail and flesh deeper into the skin. Your knuckles and tips of the fingers have been reduced to scrapes and blood. You really did try. But all you do is fail in the end. You can feel your bottom lip quiver when the tears are coming back. This time, it’s real. You should have known all of this was going to happen. You remember the little details about the night where you murdered Dean Winchester, the man you desperately tried to save. It started out with the deal to save him from Hell. The only way it would work was if you died in his place. You tried, fought tooth and nail, to get him free. But nothing worked.

Both of you constantly bumped heads about what was the right thing to do. He was brought back from the dead by his father after John sold his soul for him. Your mother patched a deal with Yellow Eyes to have you. Both of you thought there was no reason to live anymore for what had to happen was your parents dying in your place. Dean tried to save you from Lilith after you were taken by demons. You bargained for whatever Lilith wanted if it meant he would live. In the end, both of you were wrong of how to handle the situation. Lilith possessed you, forcing you into a front row seat of watching the man you loved be torn into pieces. You don’t have to close your eyes to see the hellhound’s claws dig into the man’s chest or plug your ears to hear his screams.

You were reduced to nothing, now. You lay six feet underneath the ground with a remaining best friend that probably hates you. And a man you’d known for only a few years, but with a deep connection to your mother’s past, he probably thinks of you only like her—selfish and stupid. You rest your aching hands against the cold wood and close your eyes, you feel hot tears trickle down your cheeks as a sob heaved through your chest. You’re never going to get out of here. You know you’re going to die again and go back to that hateful wasteland. Even though you don’t remember the pain of what they did to you, the words were clear as ever. You know if you go back, there was no return to to humanity that you were desperately clinging to. They were getting close to the perfect spot.

“God, please.” You were never the religious type of person to believe in a higher power. But when you learned there was such things as spirits and demons, your curiosity began to get the best of you, like it always did. You sometimes wondered if there was Heaven, if there was someone looking over, you like a fairy godmother, silently nudging you into the right direction. Sometimes when you were under complete distress, you couldn’t help yourself but believe there was someone looking out there for you. And if they were listening to what you were saying as you prayed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to screw everything up. You gotta believe me when I thought I was helping. I…I didn’t know it would lead to this. I guess that’s what I get, huh?”

A pitiful, almost forceful laugh escapes your throat before it turns into a dry cough, racking through your entire body. But you don’t lose focus on what you have to say. “If you’re real—If anyone is listening, please,” You make yourself continue on with the hope someone really is listening to what you had to say. “I don’t want to go back there. Help me get out of here. That’s all I’m asking.”

You honestly never thought someone like you, made out of darkness and hate, would have gotten your prayers answered from a possibly fictional being. But people believed in him. So, you wondered what the hell could go grow? You tried. But you were tired. You allowed your body to settle down, the aches and bloodied fingernails to stop twitching. You were done fighting a losing battle. God wasn’t real. And even if he was, there was no way he’d be wasting his precious time saving someone that he didn’t even create. You finally closed your eyes and allowed yourself to come to terms you were going back to Hell. You were going to turn into something you hate. And there was nothing you could do about it.

The sudden thumping sounds didn’t let those pessimist thoughts last for too long. Your eyelids ripped open when you heard the faint sounds of something heavy and rough hitting the top of the coffin. You stop your breathing when you feel the entire box shaky slightly from a harsh sensation, like someone was trying to break the wood. The heartbeat that was slowly beating away kicks back to life, you can feel it pound against your ribcage, showing how strong it was. You get the courage to scream one more time and pound against the wood, hoping this was real. But your hands get thrown to the side in fear as you cover your face, the wood snaps, sending particles of remaining dirt to fall on your face. In the cracks between your fingers you can feel a ray of sunshine touch your skin.

Your chapped lips stretch into a shaky, wobbling smile. This must have been all just some tortuous joke. You’d hallucinated this entire situation. Lilith must have buried you alive and the boys figured everything out. She’s dead and the deal is off the table. You’re safe at last. When you brush away the dirt and look at your savoir. Everything stops when you see who it was.

“Holy shit. It worked.”

You can feel your heart stop beating for a split second. Who you’re staring at isn’t Dean covered with dirt and a thick layer of sweat, he isn’t staring at you with that warm smile and green eyes that are filled to the brim with worry. He isn’t with his little brother, who isn’t going to waste a second getting you out of here after he notices how hard you tried fighting. Who you’re staring at is a complete stranger—with black eyes, dark as night. There’s someone else, too. His lips stretch into a smirk when he sees you laying there.

“Hiya, sweetheart. Aren’t we glad to see you.”

You nervously found yourself trying your hardest to somehow get out of here, as if this little pine box has a secret compartment where you can get even deeper down in the ground. But the demons prove that they aren’t worried about you escaping. One of them let out a laugh when they saw you squirming like a trapped animal. The other one rolled his eyes and threw the shovel to the grass, before you can fight it, he roughly grabbed a hold of your wrists. Suddenly you’re angry at yourself for wasting all that time and energy fighting to get out of the box because it’s near impossible breaking free from his grip. You were lifted up from the coffin, and in one swift motion, you were lying on a field of grass.

This isn’t how you wanted to be saved. You try your hardest to fight but you can’t. All you can do is lay there like a coward and try to keep yourself from going out of consciousness from from the sudden exhaustion that hits you out of nowhere. It helps when you feel a nudge in your ribcage, making your eyes draw upward to see the strangers were looming over you. They stared at you like you were some sideshow attraction. “…Now what?”

“Nothing. We did what Lilith wanted. She’s alive and clearly broken out of her mind. It’s like ripping wings off a butterfly. I mean, look at her. And they say he made it so she couldn’t remember a thing down there. Wait until she does. If she makes it out of here alive.” You can hear the demon let out a laugh from what he said. “Lilith wants to see if Y/N needs more time down in the pit before we can build her back up and make her what we need.”

You can’t understand what they’re saying, your head pounds from the fresh air that fills your lungs again as you suddenly realize how thirsty you are. The demons peer over you for another second longer, you hear something about them leaving before she got upset. You hear the soft sounds of plants and twigs breaking, they leave you alone in the middle of the field, questions buzzing around in your mind of what the hell is going on. You want to move, but you can’t. You shakily lift up to see the damage. There’s almost nothing left of skin or nails after you tired punched and scratched your way to freedom but broken nail bits and bloodied skin with small splinters wedged into your skin.

You turn your head to see there’s two makeshift tombstones made out of wood stuck in the ground. One for you and the other for Dean. He was buried right next to you, continuing to rot in the ground. You think for a moment you want to just lay back down and admit defeat. There was nothing but miles of woods around you. You don’t know where you ended up. Or who the hell dragged you out of the pit. You think for a moment about curling up on the grass and feel the sunshine on your skin. They honestly think you’re going to get up and lick your wounds.

For a moment you wanted to just give up. You tried, God should know you did. You closed your eyes and dropped your wounded arms back down to the grass. You feel the warmth of the Summer sun on your skin and how the crisp air fills your lung. You think to yourself that this would be the perfect way to go. For a moment longer you sit and sulk, but it’s the feel of a small finger poking you in the cheek that draws your eyelids open once more. You notice there’s a shadow blocking out the sun and a pair of wide eyes staring at you. There’s a little girl hovering over you. You blink, thinking for a split second, she looks like you as a child.

\+ + +

You remembered the day you were freed from Hell like it was just yesterday; you didn’t fight your way out like Dean, you weren’t strong enough, but you put up one hell of a fight. In the end you learned the bitter truth that demons saved you from dying again in that pine box, only because they wanted to see if you were strong enough to make it out on your own in those woods. You were almost going to give up. You didn’t know where you were and too exhausted to even get yourself to stand up. But just in that moment of defeat, something strange happened, some might say a miracle. You didn’t tell anyone about the little girl and her parents. Because they reminded so much of you and your own parents, and what could have been if things were different. If you were born without that dreaded deal. But it seemed someone was looking out for you that day because of what happened.

Turns out there was a back road not far from the woods. The family’s car broke down halfway home from their trip, and while the man was trying to fix the problem, his wife was keeping their daughter occupied as they played outside in the summer afternoon. But one thing lead to another and their daughter ran off, finding you laying there in the middle of the field. Demons might have saved you, but it was humanity and kindness that brought you back into getting out of there. You didn’t tell anyone else because everyone thought you were strong enough to fight. So you let them believe. One little white lie isn’t going to hurt them.

You sat at the edge of the motel bed with a few bags and clothes spread around the place as you continued packing. Most of the morning you spent alone in your bedroom, getting things all sorted out before you and the boys were on the road again to find another case. Dean probably didn’t want to see you right now. And Sam must have been recuperating from the strain he put himself through. You placed another shirt into the bag and reached for another, but when you heard a very faint knock on the door, you called for whoever to come in. You glanced up to see that it was Sam, he slightly poked his head out and gave you a friendly smile.

“Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Sam hesitantly asked, you furrowed your brow and nodded your head, wondering what was going on. He stepped inside the room and softly closed the door, you watched as he awkwardly rubbed his palms together. You gave him a look to figure out what was going on, Sam let out a breath. “I know I shouldn’t pry, Y/N. But it’s been bugging me. What do you remember?”

“Remember what, exactly?” You asked him. 

“About Hell.” He answered. You stopped in your movements from what you heard him say. You slowly looked up from the shirt you were folding to see he was standing right across from you. Never once had he tried discussing the topic since you got back. You waited a moment or so before you opened your mouth, hoping a lie would suffice the man’s curiosity. But he caught on quicker than you thought. “And don’t–Don’t lie, Y/N. I know you and Dean remember. Uriel told me himself. And I need to know for myself. Pl”

You knew it was a matter of time before the topic was addressed. But what could you tell him about? You didn’t want to explain the gritty details to the poor man, he shouldn’t have faced the burden. You didn’t want to admit the fact that you could remember every single second in that nightmare. But deep down, you’d been hoping someone would ask you about it. It was like a dark secret growing inside your chest, and it was getting harder to put up a smile as if you were completely fine. Your fingernails dug into the fabric of the shirt when you opened up. “It’s funny. I spent all that time trying to get there, and when I did, the only thing I kept praying for was a way out.“ You admitted one piece of truth. “For a while, I didn’t remember a thing. Everyday I wish I could go back to that.”

You looked up to see Sam’s face was pained with sadness, he knew the reason why you and Dean were down there was because of him. You moved the bags out of the way so he could have a spot next to you on the bed. He took the cue and sat down next to you, the mattress dipped down lower when his fame rested on the edge. With a heavy sigh, you open your mouth, and every single ounce of the truth comes out. You told the man about the physical and mental torture you were put through and the conditions that still haunted your mind. How the four months you were down there felt like decades. You even told him about your father, how he struck a deal to get you out of Hell and make it so you didn’t remember anything. But when you left, Lilith tracked you down and force fed you the demon blood. You weren’t going to sugarcoat everything. But at the end of what you said to him, you finished with one thought to settle his guilt for what might followed after from what you admitted.

“You and Dean were the only things that kept me going down there. Even though I can remember every single torture they put me through, and how much I wanted to give in, I kept holding on. Because you were alive, Sammy. And that’s all that mattered to me.”

\+ + +

You might have admitted what you went through in Hell to the younger man, and while it almost felt nice to have someone to share the burden, you were itching for some fresh air by yourself. You traveled alone on the first of November with a fresh cup of coffee in your hands until you were at the local park. You sat on one of the benches and watched as parents allowed their children to play off the sugar buzz that must have been still roaming in their tiny bodies. You hid a smile as you pressed the cup to your lips to take a drink. Sometimes this was life of hunting was all about. Seeing families and friends enjoying this sunny afternoon without the knowledge of what you faced was good enough for you. You swallowed down the drink just in time, you heard the familiar sounds of fluttering wings. You turned your head just enough to see Castiel sitting on the bench right across from yours. It was only a matter of time before he showed up again to bear the bad news you were waiting to hear.

“Let me guess. You’re here for the ‘I told you so.’” You begin the conversation between the both of you with a typical sarcastic jab. But you were surprised when the angel responds with a no in a calm tone. “Well, good, because I’m not that interested.”

“I’m not here to judge you, Y/N.” Castiel said, you stare at him for a moment.

“Then why are you here?” You asked him. Castiel started his sentence with his orders, you quickly stopped him before he could finish his thought you predicted where it would lead, back to the argument had yesterday. “Yeah, you know, I’ve had about enough of these orders of yours.”

“Our orders,” The angel repeated himself. “Were not to stop the summoning of Samhain. They were to do whatever Dean told us to do. It was a test…for the both of you. It was to see how you two would perform under battlefield conditions, you might say. See it would crack under pressure.”

“It was a witch, not the tet offensive.” You said. It seemed your joke was funny enough to have Castiel let out a chuckle. You couldn’t help but feel your lips twitch into a slight smile. “So we failed your test, huh? Okay. But you know what? If you were to send us back in time, and I had to do it all over again, I’d still do the same thing. I know Dean would, too. I understand that these seals need to be stopped, but I don’t know what’s going to happen if it does. Hell, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But what I do know is that this here—” You gestured your head to the park, where little children were free to roam in innocence and freedom. “These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it—is still here because of those boys and me.”

Castiel was silent for a moment, he processed what you had told him. You glanced away from him as you put the cup back to your lips to take a drink. “You misunderstand me, Y/N. I’m not like you think. I was praying that you would do the right thing by choosing to help save the town.” What he said made you turn your attention back to him. “These people—they’re all my father’s creations. They’re works of art. And yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken, and we are one step closer to Hell on Earth for all of creation. And that’s not an expression, Y/N. It’s quite literal. You of all people should…appreciate what that means.”

You quietly scoffed at his words. You and him fell into a moment of silence, as you waited for him to disappear again, you were yet only surprised when he tried furthering this conversation with someone like you. “I’ll tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul.” Castiel said. You looked over at him and raised your brow, wondering what he was going to say. You never seemed to think someone like him was going to admit something like this to you. “I have questions. I…I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore. But I know I’ve done and said things I don’t necessarily mean to come off as the way it did. And I believe they got lost in translation between us.”

Your face scrunched up in absolute confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve known quite a long time about you and what role you play in this situation. My brothers and sisters believed something like you, about how you came about, we thought nothing good could have come of it. I can’t lie when I say that I wanted to see you dead for a very long time.” Castiel admitted a truthful statement that wasn’t making you look at him any different. But he wasn’t done speaking. “I didn’t know what I know now. When I tried sending you away, I truly believed it was for your own good. I thought you would be safe away from angels and the demons. I didn’t think Lilith could track you down and drag you further into this. I had faith you were strong enough to protect yourself from her. I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

You were stricken silent from what he had admitted. Your facial expressions softened as you began suddenly to feel guilty over the way you treated him. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, he was just pushing you further away from danger. You bit the inside of your cheek, wanting to apologize for how you treated him, but Castiel shook his head. “You didn’t know. Sometimes things are out of our control and we have to let them happen. Just know in the coming months, you and Dean will have more decisions to make. There are going to be angels who are expecting to see you fail. And demons who want to see you make the wrong decision to break more seals. I don’t envy the weight that’s on your shoulders, Y/N. I truly don’t.”

Both of you fell into a deep silence after what was said. You nervously swallowed from the new information that was given to you by an angel you thought hated your guts. It turned out you and him shared more in common than you thought. You were almost expecting him to disappear off again, but he wanted to give you one last piece of information. “I can hear what humans pray about if I concentrate enough. Most of its things I can’t fix. Sometimes you humans help each other out. I learned that all you need to do is give them a little push and you take care of the rest. Especially when they see a person is at their most vulnerable state. They always try to do their best and help.”

You blink, and just like that, Castiel leaves you alone in the park with more knowledge than you had almost two months ago when you first met him. You lean back in your seat and look once more at the sight going on around you. Biting your bottom lip, you begin wondering if he was right. Perhaps someone did hear your pleas back when you were first taken out of Hell and stuck in that pine box for hours. Demons might have been the one to dig you out. But you were left there until that little girl found you alone. You wondered if Castiel heard you and helped guide her to help you. Your lips curled as you took another sip of your coffee to finish it down. Perhaps you judged the angel harsher than you should have. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all.


	8. Wishful Thinking.

Honesty was the best policy. Some might say that for about every possible situation, but, what if there was one which should remain a petty lie? You sat with your elbows on the restaurant table to cradle your head, you watched the older man from across the way with a worried expression as you saw him take another shot of whisky, counting down to the two remaining for himself. You weren’t exactly in the mood to drink. You slowly nursed a soda that was beginning to become watered down from the ice that was melting. Out of habit to keep yourself quiet just a little longer as you tried to build confidence for the touchy subject you wanted to discuss that had been lingering on your mind all day. You grabbed the slippery glass cup and bit down on the straw, you took a sip of the drink.

Things were slow over the past two weeks from the last hunt you wrapped up. You and Dean agreed on putting dating and relationship sort of behavior on the back burner when you were on the road, hunting always came first. Since things had been quiet enough, you two thought it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy a dinner out together, leaving Sam happily alone for a few hours to enjoy some quiet. The beginning of November had been tough on the brothers, with their mother’s anniversary of her death coming and passing, they’d been quietly grieving. It was to be expected. Sam always bounced back from that sort of thing. Your worry had started to direct itself on his brother from what Sam had told you after Halloween. Nobody had discussed what happened in Hell, for most of the time since coming back, you didn’t remember a thing. But after the dreaded demon blood incident, the wall that kept all the dreaded nightmares broke, plaguing your mind with the flashbacks. You learned that Dean wasn’t lucky as you. Thanks to Uriel the angel, Sam was told his brother had remembered every little detail since arriving back from Hell.

You tried to softly approach the topic with the man as a casual conversation, wondering what he could remember himself, your curiosity always gotten the best of you. What turned into a simple conversation about Hell was slowly turning into an argument. “It just doesn’t make any sense, Dean. I mean, why would Uriel tell Sam we remembered Hell if we didn’t? Well, I didn’t for the longest time until…” You trailed off for a moment when you brought up the situation. Dean kept himself quiet by taking another drink of his beer. “You know what I’m talking I’m talking about. Why would Uriel lie to Sam about something like that?”

“Maybe because he’s a prick—might have something to do with it.” Dean argued a very weak point, you tilted your head to the side and reminded the man you both were dealing with an angel who wouldn’t benefit about lying. “Yeah, an angel who was ready to level an entire town. Look, I don’t know what—”

“Radical.” Your eyes trailed away from Dean as you glanced up to see the waiter, who’d been too friendly for your personal taste, was back again to see how things were. Your lips stretched into a friendly smile, trying your hardest to be polite. "What else can I get you guys?”

“Uh, I think we’re good.” You said, hopeful he would take the hint and leave.

“Yeah?” He sure didn’t. “You want to try a couple of fryer bombs or a chipotle chili changa?”

“No, no, we’re still good.” Dean reassured the waiter. The man nodded his head and gave both of you a toothy grin before he was off, thankfully to go bother some other customers. You looked over at Dean and gave him a look, wondering if he was going to finally tell the truth or give you at least something to help rest your worrisome mind. “Y/N, honestly, I have no idea why Uriel told Sam what he did, okay?”

Dean grabbed another shot glass from the table and took the liberty to have another one, ignoring your stares that were beginning to become more focused on him. You watched as he took a sip before slamming the glass back down. He gave you an annoyed look, you fought it with an eye roll. “Fine. Do this for me.” You leaned forward and placed your elbows back on the table, you made sure both of you were at perfect eye level from what you were about to make him do. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t remember a thing from down under.”

“Really, Y/N?” Dean asked you, disbelief was clear as day in his voice from what you were asking him. You nodded your head, showing you were serious about all of this. He’d been acting all sorts of strange these past few weeks, and with what Sam brought to your attention, it was time for you and Dean to talk. But it wasn’t going as well like you’d hoped. When he noticed you were serious from your stares, he rolled his eyes in frustration before locking his gaze on you. He repeated you word for word. “I don’t remember a thing from my time down under.” You still didn’t believe him with a empathic look that was growing worse for his comfort. He let out a sharp sigh and rolled his eyes in frustration when you wouldn’t back off. “I don’t remember, Y/N.”

“Look, Dean, I just want to help.” You said, reassuring the man. You reached out and placed your hand on top of his, your fingers entwined before you gave his skin a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to lie. Me and Sam don’t expect you to put this tough guy face on. I know how scary it is. I promise I won’t look at you any differently if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You know everything I do. Okay?” Dean drew back his hand, you furrowed your brow. “That’s all there is.”

“Outstanding. Dessert time?” The obnoxious waiter was back, again. You drew back your arm as Dean continued to eat the remainder of his fries. Both of you tried to give the man you were more interested in being left alone, he kept on going, getting under your skin. “Listen, guys. You have got to try our ice cream extreme. It’s extreme.”

You gave the waiter another polite smile, mumbling a no, the extremes would have to wait for another day. You tried to ask for the check, but it seemed the waiter got something right, he gave you a toothy grin before he slipped out the small piece of paper and slammed it face down on the table. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw him finally walk away for good. “All right, so,” Dean reached out to grab another fry from his plate. “Where do we go from here? Case wise, I mean.”

“I don’t know. Sam and I noticed things have been pretty quiet lately. No signs of demon activity, no omens or portents we can see.” You said. You reached down to grab the laptop from your bag, clueless with the fact Dean’s lingering eyes when he noticed your top accidentally risen low. You sat back to normal and placed the laptop on a clean part of the table. As you opened and powered it up, you noticed his gaze lingering back up to your face. You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” He muttered behind his drink. “That’s good news for once.”

“Yeah, just the typical smattering of crank UFO sightings and one possible vengeful spirit. Now, here, check this out.” You pulled up the news article you’d found that would surely make the brothers happy for a few different reasons. You turned the laptop around so Dean could take a look after he got done finishing the last of his drink. “Up in Concrete, Washington, eyewitness reports of a ghost that’s been haunting the showers of a women’s health facility. The victim claims that the ghost threw her down a flight of stairs. Thought it would be our kind of thing. And you know how these cases go, sometimes it’s best to see if this our thing. So I was thinking, since I’m a woman, we might have to use me as bait. Of course, you know how dangerous that can be, so…“ You bit your bottom lip when you saw him choke on his drink from what you were subtly hinting at. He quickly recovered by swallowing the rest of the beer down before he wiped the moisture from his face. "I can see you’re very interested, Dean.”

“You, showers. It’s a dangerous thing. I think we need to practice a bit when we get back to the motel to make sure we got this down.” Dean took his wallet out from his back pocket and threw a handful of bills out onto the table. You raised a suggestive brow at him. “Just to safe.”

You couldn’t help yourself but laugh at how easy it was to wind up a man like Dean. He’d agreed to take things nice and slow with you, taking a pace you were comfortable with, knowing you didn’t have a relationship history like his own. But you knew Dean was accustomed to a certain type of lifestyle. Over the past few weeks you and him began to explore certain situations to each other happy when the mood hit. Tonight was no different. Your lips stretched into a farther smile when he grabbed your wrist, yanking you out of your seat after you gathered up everything before the both of you were off to the Impala. It seemed your waiter had earned that hefty tip, after all.

\+ + +

It took a few days of traveling and booking a new motel before you and the boys were ready to dive straight into a new case. The brothers were completely okay with the idea of being left alone to scan the health club for EMF, leaving you to interview the woman whom was attacked. You and her agreed to meet at a local restaurant to discuss what happened. Warning the boys to be on their best behavior, you got out of the Impala after Dean parked against the sidewalk. He made sure you went into the building safely before driving off with his brother, doing their part to see if this case was even worth your time. You met up with Candace who’d already gotten a seat for the both of you. With a few white lies you told her over the phone repeated again, you pulled out a pen and notebook to write down anything that might be helpful to identify the spirit.

“I’m not surprised the spirit world chose to make contact with me.” Candace Armstrong wasn’t the first type of person you’d come across while working in this lifestyle. Sometimes cases were bogus attempts at making a good headline for a newspaper. She sat across from you with her right arm in a sling and confidence written in her expressions. The woman brushed off her experience with a vengeful ghost as a way to build up her ego. Ghosts sometimes like to pick a certain flavor to target and cause mayhem. This one liked to target women, hence Cadence’s encounter. You listened and nodded, giving her a smile when she continued on with her theory of being chosen for other certain reasons. “I’m something of a…natural sensitive.”

“I can sense that about you chance, that whole,” You trailed off for a moment, your pen tapping against the paper. Your lips stretched into a smile when you found yourself repeating the woman’s own words. “sensitive thing.”

Candace’s expression seemed to only grow brighter when you recognized her secret ability even she didn’t know to have buried inside. She looked down at the paper, interested to see you didn’t even write anything down just yet. “So, what did you say you’re calling your book?”

“Oh, well the working title is ‘Supernatural.’ Yeah, I’ve been crossing the country, gathering stories like yours.” You said, nodding your head at the title that sprung up on you all of a sudden to cover your tracks to make this role more believable. You were posing as an author when you reached out to her, with a few lies, you told her you were writing a book about paranormal encounters. With the woman’s type of handle of the situation, she ate it right up and agreed to meet you for a friendly chat to discuss more of her situation. “But, anyways, you were telling me about your encounter.”

“Yes. Well,” Cadance sighed and started her story for you. “Once I saw the apparition, that’s when I started to run.”

Your attention lingered away for the woman for a moment to take a glance around the restaurant when you saw movement coming from the corner of your eye. You quickly turned your head to the table across from you when you noticed a couple having a romantic lunch together. Thinking that it could have been nothing, you were about to get back to listening, but that’s when you noticed who they were. Your face scrunched up in absolute confusion, and all though you weren’t the ones to judge people in love, the couple had you mentally scratching your head. The man was the kind of man lusting after the beautiful woman that sat across from him, dreaming about leaning over the table and shamelessly showing his love with a gentle kiss. Instead what you were seeing was actual reality. Candace loudly cleared her throat when she noticed you staring off at something else. You blinked and looked over at her, when you noticed her hardening glare, you cleared your throat, focusing yourself back to the reason why you were truly here. You pushed the couple out of your thoughts with that old saying, opposites attract.

“And you said the ghost chased you?” You asked, getting this conversation back on track.

"Not just that. It knew my name. It kept yelling, 'Mrs. Armstrong! Mrs. Armstrong!’ And that’s when I hit the stairs and fell.” Candace found herself admitting a small fact with embarrassment. You caught her, repeating her confession of falling, and not being pushed. The woman’s eyes widened slightly as she let out a laugh, quickly trying to cover up her tracks before you could call this entire story off. “Oh, I don't—I don’t know. I mean, I think it did. Maybe.”

“Did you feel like it meant to hurt you,” You weren’t going to count that as a strike against her. You scribbled something down before you looked up at her. “Was it violent toward you?”

“It was a ghost. I’m lucky to be alive. Anyway,” Candace got back to the story, “I was at the bottom of the stairs, and that’s when it got weird. It helped me up.”

You furrowed your brow from what she admitted, “Say again?”

“Yeah. It helped me up.” Candace said, letting out a chuckle from what she was saying, still in shock herself from what happened. You dropped your pen to the table, obviously knowing this conversation was over, but you were too interested to see what she came up with to stop her. “And it kept saying over and over again, 'Please don’t tell my mom. Please.'”

Your expressions tried to remain polite, but you couldn’t help yourself but let your mouth part open for a moment, trying to get yourself to speak. You cleared your throat and shut the notebook, you gave her one last smile to keep up this little act. "Yeah, that is weird.” You commented with a bit of honesty. Candace’s story was something you hadn’t seen with dealing with a vengeful spirit, and while she was right about this being weird, but it wasn’t enough to keep yourself going with this conversation.

\+ + +

Vengeful spirits, the ones you’d come in contact with, don’t help people after they’ve pushed someone down a flight of stairs. And they sure as hell don’t apologize for their actions. It seemed the woman was suffering more than just a dislocated shoulder from the story she told you and the newspaper. The walk to the health club wasn’t a too far from where you’d been occupying for the last hour. You waved out a hand when you spotted Sam sitting with Dean, who was reading a paper to pass the time. He glanced up to see you heading up. You gave them both a curious, wondering if they’d found just about anything to keep you all in town. Or you lead everyone on a goosechase for nothing.

“Well, you boys pick up anything?” You asked them.

“No EMF in the shower or anywhere else.” Dean explained. He wrapped up the paper he was reading before tossing it to the porch, leaving it for someone else to clean up. You watched as the both of them got back up into a standing position. “This house is clean.”

“Yeah. I’m not surprised.” You said, admitting your thoughts of this entire case. You began walking with the brothers back to the Impala. “I kind of got the feeling that crazy pushed Mrs. Armstrong down the stairs.”

“I got to tell you,” Dean said with a heavy sigh. “I’m pretty disappointed.”

“We know.” Sam cut off his brother, knowing where this was going before he could even say it. “You wanted to save some naked women.”

“Damn right I wanted to save naked women.” Dean replied back with a cocky tone. You scoffed and lightly pushed him on the shoulder, shaking your head from his response. As all of you began walking back to the Impala, your attention was drawn forward when you saw a group of boys, probably no older than ten, chasing after the smallest one in front, who was running for his life. Your lips stretched into a faint frown from seeing adolescent habits that never seemed to pass. Dean wasn’t helping, either. “Run, Forrest, Run!”

“Sorry, guys,” You apologized for the goosechase you’d put everyone on. You let out a sigh and placed your hands on your hips. “but I don’t think there’s anything going on here.”

“How the hell was I supposed to get a look at it? It grabbed me from behind and threw me into a tree!” A man’s voice coming from the other side of the way caught your attention, bringing a spark back to life in this town, making you wonder if something strange was really going on here. You and the boys began walking forward to the bridge where you the man talking with a sheriff. While the officer tried reassuring the man it could have been a bear, the man thought it has attacker was something far different. “I know a damn bear track when I see one! This thing didn’t leave bear tracks! It’s feet were huge! It was Bigfoot, Hal—the bigfoot!”

“Gus,” The officer tried his hardest to calm down the man, hoping he would lower his voice for the wandering townsfolk that passed by, curious to see what the commotion was all about. "You’re not making sense here.”

“There’s a bigfoot out there, dammit,” Gus argued with a loud voice. “And he’s a son of a bitch!”

“Excuse us. FBI.” Sam stepped forward with his badge out, directing the men deep into an argument straight out of it when he saw you three standing there. Both of them looked at all of you, wondering what the hell was going on. “We’re here about the…bigfoot problem. Sir, can you tell me exactly where this happened?”

Gus nodded his head. “Yes, I can.”

\+ + +

Where would one find Bigfoot? Lingering around in the woods, naturally. You and the brothers took a ten minute walk outside of town to see if this man’s theory was real, or if he was just crazy as the woman you’d interviewed. There’d been hyped beliefs about Bigfoot, it was like the Loch Ness monster for the people who lived in the states. You’d seen enough blurry photos and TV specials about the monsters. But you were smart enough not to believe the rumors, there was no such thing as a tall and hairy monster. All of you were still curious to see what was going on here, it wasn’t like the supernatural world was booming with real vengeful spirits or demons biting at the bait to cause trouble. And with another townsfolk giving you a dramatic telling of their story, you were being pulled in, wondering what was going on here that causing people to pull off such stories. You weren’t sure it was for attention or if they were all strange enough to believe what they said.

“What the hell is going on in this town?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask the question that’s been lingering on everyone’s mind. “First there’s a ghost that’s not real and now a Bigfoot sighting?”

“Well,” Sam looked around the park to see there was no evidence yet of the fictional creature. And if even if there was, he was smart enough to realize it was staged for some dramatic attention for a sleepy town. “Every hunter worth his salt knows Bigfoot’s a hoax.”

“Maybe somebody’s pumping LSD into the town water supply.” You took a crack at a theory, wondering if that could have been an answer to what the hell was going on here. You walked a bit farther forward than the brothers as you tried to see if there was proof around in this place. As you took another step forward, without realizing, you stepped onto the first piece of evidence. You suddenly stopped in your tracks when you felt a good depth of difference in the ground level. Taking a step back, your eyes wandered down to the dirt to see you something you weren’t expected. You retracted your foot to see footprints that were at least three times the size of your own. And it wasn’t hard to know it wasn’t human looking at all. “Okay. What do you suppose made that?”

You looked over your shoulder and stared at Sam to see if he was going to retract his previous thoughts. The man pressed his tongue against his cheek for a moment, not expecting to stumble about something like this. You raised your brow, waiting for a new answer. “That, uh,” Sam trailed off for a moment as his face scrunched up. “Is a big foot.”

There was no stopping here. You and the boys followed the footprints all through the rest of the woods until you came across an open field where just across the way laid a bridge to the other side of town. When you noticed a shop was just on the other way, everyone continued on, wondering if your mysterious Bigfoot could have been there, hunting down food. It took another few minutes until you were right about at least one thing. You stopped at the shop which must have been closed for the day, but it didn’t seem the creature got the memo, because you saw his dirty paws go straight up to the front door entrance that was broken down. You looked over at the boys to see if they were still curious to keep going. All of you were in too deep to get out of this, and with the shrug of the shoulders, you ventured inside the convenience store.

It wasn’t too hard to notice Bigfoot wasn’t exactly a friendly customer. You stumbled upon the sight of shelves knocked over and different products lying on the floor without a care. As you continued to go in deeper inside, things were only getting stranger. You noticed the liquor section was turned upside down, different glass bottles laid across the floor, shattered into tiny pieces. You stepped over the shards and continued on looking.

“So, what—Bigfoot breaks into a liquor store, jonesing for some hooch?” Dean asked, wondering if that could have been going on here. He crouched down to see what was Bigfoot’s poison of choice was. “Amaretto and Irish cream. He’s a girl-drink drunk.”

You wandered around the store, making sure to see what else could have been stolen, but as you turned around to face the boys, you stumbled upon the magazine rack. You noticed the entire top shelf was picked clean, leaving only a few copies to help figure out what he was looking for. “Hey. Check this out.” You said, pointing a finger at the magazine shelf. “He took the whole porno rack. Looks like he wanted some light reading for the road, I guess.”

If that wasn’t strange enough, Sam spotted something hidden in the shelf. He reached out a hand and plucked what appeared to be a small clump of hair. He rubbed the material against his fingers, knowing enough, the soft to touch feel wasn’t exactly animal fur, but it wasn’t enough to keep down his wonder and questions that were starting to grow stronger for answers. “Well, I’ll say it again. “ Dean remarked. “What the hell is going on in this town?”

You and the boys headed out of the store by using the front door, leading you to an empty path and an abandoned bench for all of you to sit on for a moment. You sat down at the edge, leaving Dean to be in the middle and Sam hanging off with what room there was left. All of you tried thinking of a possible answer to explain what really was going on in this town. You opened your mouth to try and make sense, but when the idea repeated itself inside your mind, you sank deeper into your seat in defeat. There was no answer to explain how a vengeful spirit and Bigfoot were terrorizing the town at the same time. Dean tried himself to come up with something, only his response was the least bit helpful. You huffed out a breath and placed your elbows on your thighs to rest on your head on your palms.

“It’s got to be a joke, right?” Sam asked, wondering if that could explain what was happening. You glanced over at him and shrugged your shoulders. “Some big-ass mother in a gorilla suit?”

“Or it’s Bigfoot. You know, and he’s some kind of an alcoholic-porno addict.” Dean guessed. He fell silent for a moment before an example popped into his mind that was too amusing for him to keep only to himself. “Kind of like a deep-woods Duchovny.”

Dean could feel himself start to crack up laughing from the thought, but when you and Sam looked at him, the man immediately dropped his facial expressions into a neutral one before he’d gotten himself into trouble. All of you fell silent for a moment longer as you began thinking really what could be causing this. You glanced around the place for a moment until your eyes caught the sight of a little girl riding on her bike, enjoying the day as she went off on her own. You weren’t thinking much of it as you looked the other way for a moment, yet when you noticed something drop out of her basket that sat behind her seat, you looked down to the pavement. You furrowed your brow from the colorful neon colors that caught your attention, that wasn’t a fashion magazine or the newest issue of Seventeen magazine she grabbed for herself. You pushed yourself up to your feet to see if your suspicions were true. The brothers followed behind to see what you found.

And you thought things weren’t getting any stranger. You bent down to grab the magazine as your brow raised up in surprised, you’d seen this magazine and heard of their website too many times during your times. “A little young for Busty Asian Beauties.” You remarked. Dean glanced down at the magazine, and just like the bottle of liquor he took from the store, he’d shamelessly grabbed the glossy issue and rolled it into a tight wad for safekeeping. You gave him a look when he tucked it inside his jacket for safekeeping. “Really, Dean?”

You rolled your eyes when he shrugged his shoulders. You and the boys decided to track down the little girl, knowing she was your only possible lead into figuring out where this Bigfoot was, or she was breaking into liquor stores for the hell of it. She made a trip not far to drop off the box of presents that were for someone else like you’d presumed. But she disappeared from sight after you looked to see what was inside the box. You found all the magazines that were stolen and bottles of liquor with a written note of "Sorry” for whatever reason why. You didn’t find Bigfoot to take his gift, and the little girl wandered off, leaving your only lead to vanish from sight. You weren’t giving up that easily. It was a small town, both of them had to be hiding around here somewhere, and you were going to figure out what was going on.

All of you drove around town until you spotted the familiar minty green bike sitting at the edge of the front lawn. The Impala parked on the curb just across from the house. You got out from the backseat and got out, you noticed the bike had the same basket right behind the seat. It seemed you found the little girl again, but Bigfoot was nowhere to be seen. You and the brothers headed up to the front door to knock, as you waited a moment for an adult to answer the door, your gaze lingered downward when you spotted the little girl standing in front of you.

“Hello!” You greeted her with a friendly tone. “Um, could we…” You stopped yourself for a second, knowing this was better if you talked to someone that was tall as you. Peeking over her tiny frame, your gaze wandered around the hall, wondering where her parents were. You thought for sure someone would be storming in here to yell at the little girl for answering the door by herself. But nobody was there. You glanced down at her and smiled again. “You know what? Are your parents home?”

“Nope.” She answered, shaking her head.

“No. Okay, well.” You mumbled to yourself for a moment. Your smile faltered slightly for a moment when you tried figuring out how you were going to start this conversation with someone who was wearing overalls and pigtails. Maybe it was better if you spoke to someone who still had their imagination in tack and wouldn’t throw you out from what you were about to say. “Have you seen a really, really furry…” You stretched your arm upward, hitting about Sam’s height, hopeful she would understand what you were talking about. Before you could give her another example, she cut you off in the most worried tone.

“Is he in trouble?!” She questioned all of you.

Your eyes widened slightly from her response, you looked over at the boys, only to see they were sharing the same expression of surprise. “No. No, not at all.” Sam chuckled out, reassuring the little girl. “We just—We wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“He’s my teddy bear.” The little girl said. “I think he’s sick.”

"Well, good thing we’re here. 'Cause you know what? We,” You decided to play along with what was going on for your advantage. You shoved a hand inside your pocket to pull out a badge to show her. Even though it said health inspector, she was young and impressionable enough to handle a little white lie. “Teddy bear doctors.”

“Really?” She asked with happiness. “Can you please take a look at him.”

“Sure.” You said with a nod. “Why don’t you show us where he is.”

The little girl let all of you inside and directly to the staircase where you followed behind to see if this was real or just a cruel joke someone was playing. You almost believed a spirit could have been involved with the previous strange happening, but this, this seemed only logical to think that someone was dressed up in a costume, playing pranks on people for the hell of it. “He’s in my bedroom. He’s pretty grumpy.” She explained when all of you got to the top of the staircase and started walking down the narrow hall. You nodded your head and watched as she stopped at the first door on the left. She knocked a few times on the closed door to announce her presence. “Teddy? There’s some nice doctors here to see you.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but what laid behind the door wasn’t it. The little girl twisted the handle and let the door swing open, what you saw made your eyes widen in absolute shock. What you saw wasn’t Bigfoot, but a giant teddy bear, probably the size of the younger man standing next to you. The black bear sat at the edge of the bed with the TV blaring a news report, and while the crimson red bow made it look adorable, the bottle of whisky in his hand and how he nervously rocked back and forth wasn’t. And, as if things couldn’t get worse, he could talk like a human being. “Close the friggin’ door!” He shouted.

The little girl rolled her eyes from the bear’s command as she did what he wanted, leaving all of you alone to soak in what had just happened. “See what I mean?” She asked. Your mouth partly slightly opened as you looked over at the brothers again. You heard it a million times today, but you couldn’t help yourself but say it one more time; what the hell was going on in this town?

\+ + +

“How—” You pointed an index finger at the bedroom door that was closed, leaving the image of the six foot tall talking bear still burning inside your mind. You trailed off for a moment, trying your hardest to wrap your mind around what you just saw, and knowing it was real. It was like the time you were babysitting a small child that lived down the street when you were a teeanger. His favorite movie happened to have been Toy Story, all though it was a new release at the time, it sparked many young and old to wonder of the conception if it was possible for toys to come alive when you were gone. But those toys were tiny. Not massively huge teddy bears that drank beer straight out of the bottle and watched the afternoon news with such distress. You blinked and looked down at the little girl so she could answer your question. “How did this happen?”

“All I wanted was a teddy which was big, real and talked. But now he’s sad all the time—not ‘ouch sad’, but ouch-in-the-head sad.” The little girl explained what she’d hope to somehow accomplish, simply explaining an imaginary friend that came to life. This one did turn out like she wanted. “He says weird stuff and smells like the bus.”

“Um, little girl…”

“Audrey!”

“Audrey.” Dean was rather quick to correct himself when the little girl did it for him, in a rather aggravated tone of voice. He looked at you and his brother for a moment before he focused his attention back on the smallest person in the room. “How exactly did your teddy become real?”

“I wished for it.” Audrey answered.

Sam’s face scrunched up, “You wished for it?”

“At the wishing well.” She said with more detail.

You’ve heard of people making wells and fountains for the purpose of people throwing in coins for the chance of their dreams and wishes to come true. Some even tried at night when they spotted the brightest star in the sky. You’d done it too many times to count when you were a small child, but they never came true. You hesitantly looked at the bedroom door that was right across from you, not sure if you wanted to look at that hellish bear again, but you couldn’t help yourself to just take one more peek, you wanted to see if the stuffed animal was real. With the boys hovering over your shoulder, you took a giant step forward and wrapped your hand around the doorknob before slowly twisting to see this sight unfold. You took a giant step forward and wrapped your hand around the doorknob again. You slowly twisted it until you were pushing open the door, stepping back to the sight that made your eyes widened ever so slightly. The bear didn’t acknowledge anyone with eye contact, he just lifted his arm upward and pointed at the TV screen.

“Look at this.” The bear bitterly chuckled out. You looked over at the TV screen to see he was watching a news report of the terror happening around the world. The broadcast showed a burning building with a caption below about the attack leaving over a thousand casualties because of it. "Can you believe this crap?“

"Not really.” You admit, knowing well enough you were talking about him.

“It’s a terrible world.” The bear whined out. You wanted to scoff at his reality that was nothing more than drinking all day and enjoying the TV that showed more than just horrendous clips of the world around you all. But the sound coming out of your mouth ending up being a gasp when you naturally flinched at the reaction of seeing his large head swivel so he was now staring at you with those dead little glossy eyes of his. It’s like you walked into a childhood dream turned nightmare. “Why am I here?!”

“For tea parties!” Audrey yelled out, clarifying his purpose to her.

“Tea parties?” The bear repeated after Audrey, his tone sorrowful from the dreaded thought of living nothing but the same day over and over again. You furrowed your brow as you watched him work through his emotions from the tone of his voice. “Is that all there is?”

When you heard the bear start softly sobbing you knew it was time for you to get out of here before things got even weirder, if that was possible. You looked over at the brothers with absolute confusion as Audrey stood at your side, almost embarrassed for what had become of her wish. Closing the door behind you, the bear was left alone to wallow his self-pity and realization of how bitter the world could have been. You raised your brows as the boys, wondering what want they wanted to do next.

“Audrey, give us a second, okay? Okay.” Sam gave the little girl a smile before he was directing his attention to you and his brother. All of you walked to the end of the hall, giving just enough privacy. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at Sam, wondering if he had a plan, but from the baffled look on his face, it seemed the man was drawing a blank himself on how to handle this situation. “Are we…Should we…” Sam stopped talking for a moment, trying his hardest to figure out how this conversation should go. “Are we gonna kill this teddy bear?”

“How?” You questioned him with a whispered tone. “Do we shoot it, burn it?”

“I don’t know.” Sam admitted with a slight shrug. “Both?”

“How do we know that’s gonna work? I don’t want some giant, flaming, pissed off Teddy on our hands.” Dean argued with the two of you, giving an image that wasn’t too pleasant to see what the outcome would be. But considering the bear functioned with a lack of confidence, you couldn’t help but wonder if it would just lay there and take what came to him.

“Yeah. Besides, I get the feeling that bear isn’t really the, you know, problem here.” Sam said. You looked over your shoulder to see Audrey was still standing there quietly. You turned around to give her a smile from the question that the younger man was about to ask. She was left home alone, you just hoped whoever had been taking care of her had been around close by. “Audrey. Where are your parents?”

“My mom wished they were in Bali,” Audrey said. “So I think they’re in Bali.”

"Okay, well, I’m really sorry to have to break this to you, but, your bear is sick. You see, he’s got…” You tried explaining this the best you could to her, but you found yourself struggling to come up with a name that didn’t sound too complicated, or unbelieveable. You froze up on the spot as you trailed off for a moment, and before you could stop it, the first ridiculous thing popped out of your mouth. “Lollipop disease.”

“It’s not uncommon for a bear his size.” Dean jumped into the conversation so you could get Audrey out of here and to someone that could take care of her until this problem was over and find a way bring her neglectful parents back home. “But, see, it’s really contagious.”

“Yeah, so, is there someone, maybe a grown-up, that you can stay with while we treat him?” Sam asked, hopeful all of you could leave her in the hands of someone responsible.

“Mrs. Hurley lives down the street.” Audrey answered, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Perfect. We’d like you to stay there for a few days, okay?“ You instructed the little girl. She nodded her head as you gave her a small smile. You were now facing a few new problems when you realized you needed to go back into her bedroom to get a few things for her trip away from home. And you didn’t know where this wishing well was. You dropped your gaze back from the bedroom door and to Audrey, hoping she would at least have one answer to this problem. "Oh, and, Audrey? Where is this wishing well?”

\+ + +

You and the brothers arrived back at the restaurant you’d interviewed Candace Armstrong about her encounter with a spirit after you made sure Audrey was packed away with a few days worth of clothes and Mrs. Hurley was home to take care of the little girl. You spotted the wishing well far off in the middle of the room, it seemed to have found another young victim after you noticed the little boy from earlier this morning head out after making his wish. You stepped out of his way when you noticed him coming straight for you, but with his little face written with a mischievous smirk, you wondered what he wished before taking off in such a hurry. Shrugging it off as probably a way to get something ridiculous like Audrey, you looked back in front of you when you stopped in front of the well. You peered forward to see the water was clear enough to see the small flecks of silver and bronze colors from the coins people threw in below.

“Think it works?” Dean curiously asked the both of you.

“Got a better explanation for Teddy back there?” Sam fired back at his older brother.

“Well, there’s one way to find out.” Dean shoved a hand inside his pants pocket to pull out a handful of change. You watched as he grabbed a penny, and while you asked him what he was going to wish for, he quickly cut you off by shushing you. He threw the coin into the water where it made a faint plunking sound before it floated to the bottom. “Not supposed to tell.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and stood there for a long moment, waiting until whatever he’d wished for would come true. As you began to look around the room to see what could help pass the time, it seemed the well worked faster than you’d thought. “Somebody order a footlong Italian with jalapeno?” Everyone turned around when they heard a booming voice echo through the room, you spotted a random guy standing just a few feet away from the entrance with a uniform on and a wrapped up sub in his hand. He waited a moment for someone to claim it, and when you saw Dean’s hand slowly raise itself up into the air, you looked over at him in surprise.

“That’d be me.” He called out, grabbing the delivery man’s attention.

Dean glanced over at you and his brother when he was greeted with the sandwich before the man walked off, leaving the food free of charge. It seemed Dean wasn’t going to waste his wish as he headed for a table with the two of you following behind. You sat down on a seat with Sam stealing a spot next to you, leaving Dean to sit across from the two of you. Dean unwrapped the paper and dug into his free sub, taking large bites and chewing only a few times before he roughly swallowed down.

“I think it works, dude.” Dean said between chews. “That was pretty specific.”

“The Teddy Bear, the sandwich.” You listed off a few possibilities that could explain the wishes which had come true. It seemed you could count Audrey’s parents being swept off to Bali as another wish. Dean mentioned something about the headline in the newspaper about a man winning the hundred million dollar lottery. You shrugged your shoulders at that mention as you glanced around to the table across from you to see a familiar couple from early this morning when you were here. You couldn’t help but think there was something fishy going on here when you saw the woman giggling as she tried feeding her boyfriend a piece of sushi, but failing miserably. You weren’t trying to be judgemental, but there was something off about it. “I’m guessing that.”

“Well, that definitely goes on the list.” Dean mumbled, seeming to share the same uneasy feeling about what he was seeing in that couple. He glanced back over at you and his brother before trying to figure out a way to solve this problem. Nobody so far had wished for anything that hurt or killed anyone, maybe there wasn’t a case here. “What are we supposed to do, huh? Stop people’s wishes from coming true? Sounds like kind of a douchey thing to do.”

“Yeah, maybe. But come on, man.” Sam said as he leaned forward slightly over the table. He brought up a valid argument that broke Dean’s attention away from taking another bite of his food. “When has something like this ever come without a price tag? Usually a deadly one.”

“I don’t know. It’s a damn good sandwich.” Dean argued a weak point. He took another bite of his food as you tilted your head to the side, knowing Sam was right about this. When someone got what they wanted with a supernatural touch, the consequences weren’t the least bit small. Dean put his food down to the table and swallowed before speaking. “All right. Fine. We’ll put a hold on the wishing till we figure out what’s going on.”

“Uh, gentlemen, lady.” You looked up when you heard someone else speaking. The owner of the restaurant, an older gentlemen, loomed over all of you with a polite smile from what he was about to say. “I’m sorry. We don’t allow people to eat outside food here.”

You directed your attention back over at the oldest brother who’d gotten all of you into trouble. Dean sat there for a moment as he picked clean of all the bits of food he’d got stuck in his teeth before answering the owner’s accusations. “Well, I am certainly not gonna eat the inside food here.” Dean chuckled out, his words coming out a bit harsher than he planned. You watched as he reached a hand inside his jacket to pull out the badge which classified him as a health inspector. He pulled out a black leather case, but when he peeked inside, he realized it was the wrong one. Dean gave the owner a quick nod before he reached inside his right pocket, finally grabbing the right badge and showing it to the man. “Health department. You, my friend, have a rat infestation. We’re gonna have to shut this place down under emergency hazard code 56C.”

\+ + +

The owner wasn’t exactly happy from the accusation he claimed not to be true, it was enough to have all the customers enjoying their lunch to scurry out of here, leaving you alone to figure out what was going on. The fountain was drained from any water, leaving you and the boys to examine the bottom that was painted a pale blue shade with only coins remaining on the bottom. Dean was on his knees and hunched over with a small brush in his hand as he examined all the coins, not sure what he was looking for, it wasn’t helpful either when the owner loomed over your shoulders. Dean brushed a few coins back and forth before he stood back up and looked at Sam and then you. He nodded his head as if he’d come up with a conclusion.

“Typical fountain, plaster Buddha.” Dean noted. “Nothing I can see.”

“Yes, nothing.” The owner repeated after him. “We keep a clean place here.”

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave during this preliminary investigation, okay?” Sam ushered the owner out of your hair at least until you could figure out what was going on. “Thank you.”

You gave the older man a nod of appreciation and a smile as you watched him walk away, a frustrated glare settling across his facial expressions. You looked back at the fountain as the owner shook his head before he left you three alone. Peering down at the fountain for a moment, you turned your gaze to Dean when you noticed he was holding out his palm toward you and Sam. When you looked down, you noticed he was holding two pennies. “Oh, come on, guys. Aren’t you a little bit tempted?” He asked, prompting you to start thinking of possibilities.

“No. Wouldn’t be real.” Sam said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t trust it.”

“I don’t know. That bear seemed pretty real.” Dean remarked. You had to be honest he was right about that. Your eyes wandered over to the coin, almost tempted to throw it in to see how powerful it was, and what Dean was about to say didn’t help your temptation. “Come on, if you could wish yourself back, you know, before it all started…Think about it—Us living a quiet life with a nice car and a white picket fence. You’d be some big yuppie lawyer.”

“Not what I’d wish for.” Sam admitted. All though the image did bring a smile to his lips, you gave him a look, suprised to see him backing out from something he’d once fought so hard to keep. “It’s too late to go back to our old lives, guys. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“All right, well, what, then?” You asked the man. “What would Sammy wish for?”

Sam thought about his answer for a moment before saying it out loud. What he said wasn’t what you were expecting to hear. “Lilith’s head on a plate. Bloody.”

You raised your brow as you looked at him a bit differently for a moment. It wasn’t an answer you were expecting to hear, but considering the track list the demon gotten over the past several months, you couldn’t help think Sam was right about that one. Dean remained silent himself as he looked down at the fountain again for another look, and it seemed something new caught his eye underneath the mess of smaller coins. "What is that?”

You bent down, placing your hands on the roughed edges of the rock to examine what Dean had found. He brushed away a few coins to get a better look at the larger one he’d found. “Some kind of old coin. I don’t recognize the markings.” You said, leaning a bit forward so you could get a better look for yourself. Dean tried to pick up the coin that didn’t weigh anything at all, but the man struggled with the simple task as he muttered a profanity. “Lift with your legs.”

Dean gave you an annoyed expression from your advice that wasn’t helpful at all before he got back to the task. He put all of his effort into getting the small object out of there, but it only ended with him grunting and almost losing his breath. He retracted his hand and sighed in defeat. “Is that little mother welded on there?” You and Dean looked over at one another from his question when an idea crossed your mind. Maybe it was. But you had a feeling there was a way you could get it out with a bit of elbow grease and extra tools to help you out.

You and the boys excused yourselves out of the restaurant for a second to take a detour to the trunk of the Impala. It took a few minutes before you back again with an iron crowbar and sledge hammer to get this little coin out from its spot. The owner looked up from the stack of papers he’d been examining, and when he noticed the hardware you were coming in with, it didn’t leave him quiet any longer for the trouble you all were about to do. Dean dropped the duffel bag to the ground and grabbed the crowbar from your hands. He placed the flat edge just exactly at the edge of the coin before starting to push with all of his might.

“Hey, hey, the, what is this?!” The owner cried out. “You are gonna break my fountain!”

“Sir, I don’t want to slap you with a 44/16, but I will.” Sam tried scaring off the man with some threat that made even you look at him with a confused expression from the white lie he came right up on the spot with. Sam shrugged his shoulders when he caught your gaze before he looked over at the owner. The older man frowned in annoyance and gave Dean yet another glare before he walked off, leaving you three alone again. “Alright, thanks.”

Dean stepped back when he realized the crowbar wasn’t getting this done any faster than he’d tried doing before. He took a step back and tried regrouping for a moment. When he remembered all of you brought the hammer, he reached out a hand for the tool. “Let me see that. I got an idea. Y/N, hold the crowbar.” Dean instructed a plan that only seemed to end up in a disaster if he didn’t execute this plan just right. You gave him a look before you snatched the bar out of his grip and dropped down to a closer level with the floor. You positioned the crowbar against the coin as Dean got himself ready with a few practice swings before doing the real deal. When you noticed he was going in for the kill, you couldn’t help yourself but flinch and turn your head away. When you felt the sudden jolt of pressure, you waited to tumble forward, but it never came. You opened your eyes to see that Dean was holding the hammer that he clearly swung, but the metal part laid all the way across the floor, somehow gotten broken off from the attack that went south. “Damn!”

“Coin’s magical.” You muttered with absolute surprise creeping in your tone.

“Boy, I’d say.” Dean agreed. You dropped the crowbar to the ground when you knew something was up with the coin. An idea hatched inside your head prompting you reached inside your pocket and pulled out your small notebook with pencil. “I think it’s hoodoo that’s protecting the well. I don’t think we can destroy this.”

You leaned into the fountain and took a piece of paper you ripped out of the notebook before pressing it against the coin, you shaded what image you could get out before looking down at the end result. "All right. You both got to look into this.” Sam’s voice prompted you to look over your shoulder. You asked him where he was going before he could take off. “Something just occurred to me.”

Sam didn’t give either one of you much more information before he was heading off. You pushed yourself back to your feet and scrunched your brow, wondering what could have been so important. You looked down at the sketch of the coin for a second before you felt someone’s gaze lingering on you. The owner stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and a frustrated expression spread across his face, he shook his head from what’d you all done. You gave him a polite smile before you tugged on Dean’s arm, giving him a warning sign that it was time to leave.

\+ + +

You really thoughts things weren’t going to get worse. You plugged your ears with your index fingers when you heard the faint sounds of Dean’s coughing getting worse after he locked himself in the bathroom fifteen minutes ago. Both of you had found out what the coin was and what trouble it brang, and it seemed Dean only furthered the proof after becoming violently sick. He’d shown signs of discomfort on the way back to the hotel with complaints of an upset stomach. Now it was clear he was sick with food poisoning as he vomited up everything he’d had all morning long and straight into the toilet. You looked over your shoulder when you heard the hotel door open and close. Sam gotten back from his trip and found himself stepping straight to the sight of you sitting at the desk with your ears plugged and his brother’s violent coughs coming from the bathroom. He looked over at you for an answer, you only provided him with an annoyed eye roll in frustration.

"Dean?” Sam called out his brother’s name as he took a step forward to the bathroom. He heard the faint sounds of coughing before the toilet being flushed. “You all right?”

“Wishes turn bad, Sam.” Dean managed to call out in a strained voice. “Wishes turn very bad.”

“The sandwich, huh?” He asked, you nodded your head.

You placed your hands on the desk when you saw Dean was alive and somewhat well when he emerged back out from the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe with a thin sheet of sweat across his face and a towel in his hands after he tried washing out the bitter taste from his mouth. “The coin was babylonian. It’s cursed. If you couldn’t obviously tell. I found some fragments of a legend.” You explained what you could to the young man as you watched the other from the corner of your eye. Nodding your head to the laptop you’d had perched up on the bed, Sam headed forward to see what you’d gotten. Your attention was directed to Dean when you noticed he’d vanished from your sight. He’d gone back into the bathroom after he started gagging again. “Dean, you okay?”

Dean emerged out of the bathroom after composing himself, “I’m good.”

You pushed yourself up when he gave you a smile, reassuring you that there’d be no more of this episode. You thought for a moment about giving him a peck on the cheek to help lift up his spirits, but the smell of his breath quickly killed the idea as your nose wrinkled up from the lingering smells. “Uh, well, anyway.” You turned around and headed for the opposite bed next to Sam’s where you spotted him reading the information. “The serpent is tiamat, which is the Babylonian God of primordial chaos. I guess their priests were working some serious black magic.”

“They made the coin?” Sam asked you.

"Yeah, to the seeds of chaos.” You explained more to him. You looked over when you felt the bed shift around in weight. Dean joined the both of you with a cold beer in his hands. As he cracked it open, you gave him a disapproving shake of the head. “Whoever tosses a coin into the wishing well, makes a wish, it turns on the well. Then it starts granting wishes to all comers.”

“But the wishes get twisted.” Sam said, catching on. “You ask for a talking Teddy…”

“You get bipolar nut job.”

“And you get e. Coli.”

"This thing has turned more than one town upside over the centuries. It’s even wiped a few off the map.” You said, bringing the brothers’ back into the conversation. “I mean, one person gets their wish, it’s trouble, but everybody gets their wish…”

"It’s chaos.” Sam finished your thought. “Any way to stop it?”

“Yeah. One way. We have to find the first wisher.” You answered, Sam rolled his eyes. “Whoever dropped the coin and made the first wish, they’re the only ones who can pull it back out and reverse the wishes. So for now, we’ve got a couple of nutso dreams come true, but once the word gets out about the well, things are just gonna get crazier and crazier.”

\+ + +

You tapped your fingers against the desk and looked down at the list of suspects you had. It was a short one, adding on the pervert teen who’d wished himself invisible to spy on women. All of them were roughly around the same timeline, not giving you an exact estimate of who could have been first. You tore your gaze away from the computer screen and different notes you’d had spread around the place. You got up from the chair and decided to give yourself a bit of a break from research after you found a headache beginning to form. Your attention was quickly drawn forward to the body that was passed out on your hotel bed, the ends of your lips stretched into a smile at the sight of Dean passed out. He’d mentioned something about resting his eyes for a few minutes after the both of you tried discussing the case. One thing lead to another and he’d dozed off after using most of his energy earlier. You were about to give him some peace, until you heard a noise.

You stopped in your tracks and fell silent, waiting to hear it again. There was a faint noise, but you recognized it again. You watched as the tips of Dean’s fingers twitched and he mumbled something to himself in his sleep. He’d been acting strange for weeks, and after seeing him act like this right in front of your eyes, you knew it was your breaking point. A worried expression settled on your face when you realized something was wrong. "Dean, wake up!”

Dean’s eyes shot open when he heard your booming voice that caught him off guard. He fumbled out from his sleepy haze as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “What?” He groggily asked as he looked around the room. “I’m up. I’m up. What?”

“Sleep well?” You asked him.

“Yeah.” Dean answered. You watched as he pushed himself farther until he was sitting upright with his back turned to you. He rubbed his eyes to get out out the sleep before he was leaning down and grabbing the bottle of booze he’d grabbed from the liquor store. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he unscrewed the cap. “Tan, rested, and ready.”

Dean didn’t seem to feel the gaze burning into his backside as he took a chug of the alcohol. You let out a sigh and closed your eyes, knowing you couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Dean, come on. You think I can’t see it?” You asked him, giving the man one more chance. Dean continued on to play innocent as he looked over his shoulder, wondering what you were talking about. You gestured an arm to the bottle he was getting cozy to. “The nightmares, the drinking. I’m with you practically twenty-four seven. And I’ve been through it myself. I know something’s going on.”

“Y/N, please.” Dean gave you a warning, but you didn’t listen.

“Uriel wasn’t lying, but you are.” You said. You didn’t realize your tone of voice was growing harder as you continued on speaking. Dean pushed himself up from the bed and faced you. “You remember Hell, don’t you?”

“What do you want from me, huh?” Dean questioned you in a tired voice. “What?”

“The truth, Dean. I’ve been trying to keep quiet for two months but I can’t anymore. And I’m your girlfriend. I sold my soul for you and landed right down there with you. That should count for something.” You said, slipping the foreign word into the conversation and things that you’d thought would work. Only it ended with Dean seeming to become guilty as you wrapped your arms tighter around your body. "I understand if you don’t want to discuss it in front of Sam. But I told you I do remember things. I understand what you’re going through. I just wish you’d talk to me.”

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” Dean tried striking a joke, you glared at him. He smiled ever so slightly at his humor before it dropped. You shook your head in annoyance as you walked back to the desk, Dean busied himself with snatching the paper from the bed after grabbing another copy. He skimmed the front page for a moment or two before he finally looked up, only to see you were silent and pissed off at him. “Come on, Y/N. Can we stop the couples therapy, huh? I thought we agreed on this. We’re on a job. I want to work. What do you got?”

“Uh,” You directed your aggression into the pencil you reached out to grab. You mindlessly began wrapping your hands tighter around the wood, reading off the information you had scribble down. It’s the quiet sound of wood breaking and the second half of the pencil thumping to the desk that puts you back into reality. You quickly dropped the broken shards and began reading off the list before Dean could figure out what you’ve done. “We’ve got Teddy Bear, lottery guy, invisible pervert guy. They all must have wished sometime in the last two weeks. But who wished first, and how are we supposed to know who else wished for what when?”

“Well, it helps when they announce it in the paper.” Dean said. You looked over to see he kept himself busy with finding a possible lead without doing much work. He pushed himself off the bed and headed forward to the desk, he dropped down the newspaper and pointed to the happy couple you commented about earlier. You leaned forward in your seat to see the grainy black and white photograph of the happy couple underneath the engagement section. “Goes back a month.”

“Wesley Mondale and Ms. Hope Lynn Casey have announced their surprise engagement.” You read off the small paragraph underneath the picture. You knew there was something off about them when you first spotted the couple.

Dean smirked, “Ah, true love.”

“At least one couple is happy.” You said with an almost forced smile as you snatched the paper right from underneath his grip. You kept a petty chuckle to yourself when you saw Dean slightly stumble before catching himself. “Best lead we got. I’ll tell Sam.”

Dean bitterly rolled his eyes from how the both of you were acting to one another, he opened his mouth to make a comment, but he stopped himself. The thought brought a small smile at the ends of his lips. In a twisted sort of way, he thought of this moment as your first official fight as a couple.

\+ + +

You knocked a few times on the front door of the happy couple, Wesley and Hope, before you took a step backward in the narrow apartment hallway you stood in. There was a moment’s wait until you saw the cheerful expression of Hope when she answered the door, she gave you all a smile, curious to know who you and the two men standing behind you were. You carefully explained that you were the florists for their up and coming wedding, Wesely had made an appointment for the both of them to get started on one of the most important aspects just earlier this week. Hope ate the little white lie right up, her smile seemed to grow as she ushered you all inside into the small one bedroom apartment. You glanced around at the interior of the place to see it looked more like a bachelor pad than the cozy home of a happily engaged couple. And it seemed Wesley wasn’t exactly overjoyed with his fiance like Hope was, you spotted him sitting in an arm chair with his head resting on his palm. The look on his face seemed overwhelmed, probably because the woman he’d wish for to love him was growing a it more clinging that he’d once desired.

“Wes! You didn’t tell me that you called the florists for the wedding.” Hope said as she placed her hands on her hips. Wesley dropped his hand to the armrest as his facial expression turned into confusion from what she said. She didn’t seem fazed from his reaction as she leaned forward and gave him a peck on the forehead. “You’re the best! I’m gonna go get my folders.”

You gave her a smile and nodded your head, watching as the woman disappeared into the other room just down the hall. You took your gaze away from the door as you looked down at the man sitting in the chair. “Wesely,” You greeted him with a friendly tone. “How’s it going?”

“It’s We…S-S.” He tried correcting you into the proper pronouncement of his name as he pushed himself slightly out of his seat. Yet he slowly went cowering back down when he noticed the brothers take a few giant steps forward to give him a good scare. Wesley narrowed his eyes from behind this thick framed glasses. “Aren’t you the guys from the health department?”

“Yeah. I’m also a freelance writer with florist work on the side for cash. And we’re FBI, too.” You said with a smirk. You knew there was no point of lying to him, it was better to scare the man with the truth and make him to the right thing. “And on Thursdays, we’re Teddy Bear doctors.”

Wesley’s face scrunched up, “Huh?”

“Doesn’t matter who we are.” Dean said. “What matters is what we know.”

“So,” Sam drew his gaze forward to the picture frame that neatly held the collection of coins hanging up on the wall behind the man. He noticed how rare and almost ancient looking they were. And how one of them was missing in the frame. “Coin collector, huh, Wes?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Wesley muttered with pride in his voice. He looked over his shoulder to take a peek at the collection again, his lips drew into a smile before looking back at you. When he noticed all of you were staring at the empty spot, his face slowly dropped. “My grandfather gave them to me.”

“Did you happen to lose one of those coins lately?” Dean asked, bringing up the dreaded subject to the man. “And by ‘lose,’ I mean, drop into a wishing well at Lucky Chen’s and make a wish on it?”

Wesley denied everything with a few muttered words underneath his breath as you watch his gaze wander around the room, they jumped all around, but they never got anywhere near. But his proof of doing so came walking right back into the living room with her binders and folders crammed with ripped out photographs from wedding magazines and lists of guests for their future wedding. "Okay, now. I have lots of ideas, but, you know, we don’t have all the money in the world.” Hope began speaking as she flipped through the pages. She lifted up her gaze when she noticed her fiance pushed himself up from his seat to stand next to her. She gave him a loving smile as she admitted a tiny fact about the man she wasn’t ashamed of to admit, the woman looked on the brighter side of things. “Wes is between jobs right now. Means more time for me.”

“Budgets are our speciality.” You said, giving her a reassuring smile as you played more into this role. You looked down at her papers for a moment before you eyed Wesely from the corner of your eye. It wasn’t hard to see the man was starting to squirm in his spot from the trouble he’d gotten himself in—with you and Hope. You decided to make this a bit more fun for yourself. “So, any particular designs you’ve been thinking about?”

“I was thinking a japanese-ey ikebana kind of thing.” Hope said with an explanation to the best of her ability. You nodded your head and smiled again at her, mentioning something about seeing her design come to life. It was only fitting to keep with the tradition from where to the two fell in love.

“So, Hope,” Sam spoke up, deciding to ask a question to the young woman to see her version of the story. “Tell us how you two lovebirds met.”

“Oh, best day of my life. It’s the funniest thing. We both grew up here, but I never really knew who he was. Not by name anyway. Until one day last month, it was like I just, I just saw him for the first time.“ Hope began explaining the story, giving you a few details that intrigued you. You glanced away from her to take a quick look at Wesley before directing your attention back on her. Hope let out a sigh when she focused her attention on the man, her expression dropped into absolute fascination again. She reached out a hand to cup the man’s face, your eyebrows perked up. "He was just…glowing. Oh, just glowing.”

Hope got herself lost in the romance once again when she stared into the man’s eyes. Wesley could feel everyone’s attention being drawn on the sight, and knowing how the woman operated lately, she was trying to rekindle the passionate moment they’d tried sharing before the three of you got here. “Uh, babe, can you get us some coffee?”

Hope nodded her head at the command, but her attention was being drawn away for a moment. She now stood next to the man with her hands cupping his face with her eyesight drawn to his lips. You watched as she began peppering him with kisses, a few turned into a dozen as she wouldn’t break away when Wesley began to softly try and push the woman away. You and the brothers watched with absolute amusement at the sight that unfolded right in front of your eyes. After the dozenth kiss, Wesley managed to push Hope away at an arm’s length to bring her back into the favor he asked for her. She gave him a bright smile before she was off, disappearing into the kitchen so the four of you could have a proper talk. You rested your hands on your hips and looked away from the doorway and back to Wesley. There was no more denial from him.

“Wes, we know.” Sam said with a quiet tone. “So tell us the truth.”

The man looked at the three of you for a moment, his eyes jumping back and forth, but when he noticed all of you were sharing the same serious glare, he let out a sigh in defeat. He knew there was no denying an obvious love that couldn’t have been achieved on its own. So, he came clean. “My grandfather found the coin in North Africa, you know, world war two. And, uh, he brought it back.” Wesley began explaining the details about how the coin came into his possession. He walked over to the wall where his other collections hung up and took down the one with the missing spot to take an examination of it. “He said it was a real wish-granting coin, but that nobody should ever use it. Eh, it was all I had, and when he died, I thought, 'Well, you know what? Why not give the coin a shot?’”

“Cute story. But the honeymoon phase is over.” You said. “Now you’re gonna wish it back.”

“Oh.” Wesley muttered, a nervous chuckle escaping him when you responded with something he wasn’t expecting. You narrowed your eyes at him when he decided to play the tough guy and not back down. “Oh. Ha ha, no, I’m not.”

“If you don’t stop it, something bad’s gonna happen. Something bad,” You kept your voice quiet and low so hope couldn’t hear you from the other room and figure out what was going on. Wesley tried rolling his eyes as if he wasn’t afraid of you, but you nodded to the two men twice his size that were standing behind you. “Like them.”

You watched as the man tried to seem only a little taken back from the persuasive attempt that you thought would work. That was the gentle approach. Now it was time to draw to something a little bit bigger to get Wesley shaking in his shoes. Dean stepped forward and reached a hand inside his jacket, Wesley’s eyes drew back when he noticed the man pull out a loaded pistol. “We really wish you’d come with us.”

\+ + +

Wesley wasn’t too happy about the change of plans. You looked away from the window to stare at the man you were forced to sit in the backseat with, he leaned all the way backwards so his head was resting on the leather seats and his knees pressed up against the front. There wasn’t much here since the seats in the front were pulled back, it never bothered you much since you were quite smaller in size compared to the boys. Wesley was using it to his advantage. Like a small child, he dug his knees into the seat so the brothers would flinch forward from the pressure. “So, my wish came true.” Wesley said with an eyeroll. “Why does that have to be a bad thing?”

“Because the wishes go south, Wes.” Sam explained to the man. “Your town is going insane.”

“Come on. You’re going to sit there and tell me that your relationship with Hope is functional,” You pipped into the conversation as you gave the man a glare. “That it’s what you wished for?”

“I wished she would love me more than anything.“ Wes admitted, you scoffed.

"Yeah, and, uh, how is that going?” You asked him. “That seem healthy to you?”

“Well,” Wesley opened his mouth to fight this argument. You wanted to either roll your eyes so far in the back of your head from his pitiful attempts at making someone fall in love with him. It was the sheer purpose of wanting something you could never have. You opened your mouth to put in your own opinion again, but you stopped yourself to give him at least a chance to explain himself. “It’s a hell of a lot better than when she didn’t know I was alive.”

“You’re not supposed to get what you want, man, not like this. Nobody is.” Dean argued with Wesley, giving him the truth that only ended with the other man rolling his eyes and letting out a sharp breath. “That’s what the coin does. It takes your heart’s desires and it twists it back on you. You hear of the whole 'be careful for what you wish for?’”

The conversation was paused for a moment when you felt the Impala suddenly run over something in the middle of the road, sending your hand flying to the seat to keep yourself steady. When things went back to normal, you quickly looked over your shoulder and out the window to see if you could find anything in the road, you didn’t seem to find anything, only a scenery that was growing smaller with each passing second forward. You dropped back into your seat when you and the brothers brushed off the incident as nothing. Wesley crossed his arms over his chest and began stirring up trouble again when he spoke up once more to continue things back up.

“'Careful what you wish for.’” Wesley dropped his voice into a deeper and lower pitch, mocking Dean from what he said. You couldn’t help yourself but look upward at Sam, both of you sharing the same look of annoyance. It was just a matter of time until someone got the chance to punch the man in the face. “You know who says that? Good-looking jerks like you guys, the ones who’ve got it so easy because you happen to be handsome.”

“Easy?” The brothers spoke in unison, a bad habit of theirs.

“Yeah. Women—Women look at you, right? They notice you.” Wesley said.

“Believe us,” Sam muttered. “We do not have it easy.”

“We are miserable. We never get what we want.” Dean said. “In fact, we have to fight tooth and nail just to keep whatever is we got.”

“But you know what? Maybe that’s the whole point, Wes.” You said. “You ever thought of that?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed with you. “People are people 'cause they’re miserable bastards, 'cause they never get what they really want.”

“You get what you want, you get crazy. Or,” You brought up a small point that was directed to Wesley and the woman he’d wish to fall for him. “The person you wanted goes crazy.”

“You know what? Hope loves me now—completely. And it’s awesome.” Wesley said. You looked over at him again with an almost comical expression settling on your face. “And besides, where’s all this, uh, insanity you guys were talking about?”

Wesley was about to get his example. The Impala began to slow halt with a stop sign ahead. You glanced around the town for a moment, your attention was quickly taken away from the empty streets to the parking lot just across the way. Your eyes nearly bulged out of their head when you noticed the little boy from earlier. He’d made a wish right after you arrived into the restaurant, and what he was doing wasn’t something cutesy. He was taunting a group of other kids that were all huddled in a SUV, but that was no match for the boy. You leaned forward in your seat when you watched him crouch down and start slowly lifting up the car, tilting it to the side, it wobbled for a few seconds before a light push caused the entire vehicle to collapse on its side.

“Well, that should cover it.” You muttered, your attention fixated on the sight for a moment. You watched as the little kid took a moment to soak in his new ability, enjoying how the tables were turned for him. You knew it wasn’t going to end well when he ended his glory and walked forward to the car to start roughly shaking it about again. “Okay. Dean and I’ll handle the little rugrat. You get Wes to Lucky Chen’s.”

You ripped open the backseat door and jumped out, Dean following behind as Sam didn’t waste another second to switch seats after the both of you were out. You began to take slow steps forward to the little boy. But you weren’t afraid of what he could do. You had a few tricks up your sleeve. “Hey, kid!” Dean called out to the young boy, breaking his attention away from the group of kids he was harassing. “Can we talk to you for a second?”

“Get out of my way!” Todd yelled out in a warning tone.

“Okay. Hey, I can dig it, Todd. It’s Todd, right?” You asked him. You played into his little game by throwing your hands up into a defensive position. When you noticed he wasn’t going to try do anything, you dropped down to his level, making sure you were looking at him at eye level. “Look, I know how it feels. Okay? They’re bullying you.”

“Everyday!” He admitted. “You do not know what it’s like!”

“No, no, I don’t.” Dean admitted with a hushed tone. “But, you know, you’re you and I’m me.”

You put a hand up to quiet the older man, it wasn’t his time to be empathic here. You looked over at Todd and gave him your full attention, wanting to hear what he had to go through. Sometimes all you had to do was let people explain themselves and get that aggression off their chest. “I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t do anything.” Todd admitted with a small tone, his gaze was staring down at the pavement for a moment. It wasn’t too long before his mood was spiking back up to what it was when you arrived. “Then Audrey Elmer told me the wishing well worked.”

"Okay, okay. Look—Look, we get it. They’re mean little jerks, huh? But they’re not superhuman like you.” Dean said. You knew he was trying to help, but it was only ending in him getting on the bad side of the young man who held inhumane amounts of strength. And you couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes in annoyance from what he said. “You see, with great power comes great—”

Todd wasn’t going to have the Spiderman speech. He decided instead to solve the problem by swinging his arm and landing a punch right at Dean, with enough force to send the man flying backwards into the air, before landing safely on the curbside trash. You looked over your shoulder for a moment that Dean was out cold for a moment. You let out a sigh and looked over at Todd with a frustrated look. “That wasn’t very nice. You know, what you’re doing isn’t very good.” You tried giving him the speech about how violence was wrong. But you could see that he was getting angry from what you were trying to do, and as his little fists began clenching, you shook your head. "Didn’t your mother teach you not to hit? You’re no better than those bullies.”

You tried to at least break down why what he was doing was wrong, a little heart to heart he needed to hear. But your advice was thrown out the window when you heard the sound of the garbage bags shifting around. Dean wobbled himself to his feet and brushed off the punch as if it was nothing to him. “Hey, kid!” He shouted. You could hear his footsteps coming from behind. “I didn’t want to have to do this.”

“Can I punch him again?”

“Fine. Just don’t kill him.”

Maybe it was a bit wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself even out the score. Dean had ticked you off earlier today, so you got your own revenge. Todd needed to let out some aggression before he would wish back his abilities. You pushed yourself to your feet and stepped out of the way for Dean. He took a few bruises to his ego. There was no way Dean was going to get defeated by a little kid. He tried throwing a punch at the young man, but it only ended with Todd taking the pain as if it was nothing. He reached up and grabbed the man by his neck and squeezed hard as he could and cut off Dean’s supply of air for just a moment. You gave him at least thirty seconds top before you would step in. But after ten, Dean dropped to the pavement with a gasp of air.

“Well, look at that.” You mumbled, a bit of surprise in your tone. You glanced down at Todd when you realized Wes must have finally came to his senses and took out the coin, reversing all the wishes, making Todd back to the way he was. But you weren’t going to leave him alone with a car full of bullies. “Dean get up. I’ve got an idea. Follow my plan and you won’t have a problem, Todd.”

You explained the plan to both of the boys before you were stepping back, allowing them to reenact it out. You watched as Dean began backing away in fear when the both of them got close to the car, as the bullies tried escaping, they were catching sight of Todd taking down a man three times his size. “Okay, man, no more! No more, okay?” Dean pleaded. He bumped into the back of the van as he drew his arms upward for a pitiful attempt at drawing this fight to a close. But Todd wasn’t backing down, he stared at the man with a deadly glint in his eye. Dean turned his head to see the three boys standing there, and to make this look real, he spoke what you told him to say. “I wouldn’t mess with this kid any more if I were you.”

Everything went according to plan like you thought it would. You popped out from your hiding spot when you saw Dean walk forward, his lips stretched into a smirk at the victory. The both of you began walking out of here, but you couldn’t help yourself to look over your shoulder. You were happy to see that Todd was a lot more positive about his situation with his bullies. You knew violence wasn’t always the answer, but it didn’t hurt to show people their own medicine.

\+ + +

Everything was right with the world again. You leaned in your seat on the bench to take a look at the newspaper Dean was reading, the front page read of the man who’d won the lottery happened to fake his ticket. Hope was unaware of who Wesley was again and the pervert who started all of this was back to normal. Audrey and her parents, who look painfully sunburned, walked down the peer with their daughter leading the way. You smiled at her and noticed the stuffed animal she wished for had turned into an actual toy that wouldn’t speak. You waved to her as she passed by and made her way back home. Sometimes you weren’t always give everything you wanted in life. But hard work and patience could get something just as good. You looked over at Dean, when he noticed you were staring at him, he gave you a warm smile. While there was a small part of you that wished things were more normal and different, you couldn’t help but admit you were happy with how things were. You had the boys. Sometimes that’s all what you needed.

Sam came into your view a moment later, returning back from his last chore that needed to be done in order to officially wrap up this hunt. “Well, the coin’s melted down. It shouldn’t cause any more problems.”

“Audrey’s parents are back from Bali. Looks like all the wishes are gone.” You said. You glanced around the place, soaking in one more memory of the water and landscape of the small town wilderness before you focused on the boys. “And so are we.”

You and the boys began walking forward again, knowing this town was going to be in your rearview soon enough after finding another hunt to keep all of you busy. You thought about other cases that needed to be worked on, and not on other things you’d been fighting about for a few days now with Dean. You needed to give him space until the time was right. It make take weeks or months. But you didn’t know he was going to break down just after a minute of silence. You looked over when you noticed Dean stopped in his tracks, you gave him a confused expression, wondering what was wrong. He nodded his head for you to come forward. “Hang on a sec, Sam. I need to talk to Y/N alone.” Dean said. Sam was a bit confused for a moment before he mumbled something about meeting the both of you back at the Impala. You walked up to him, wondering what this was all about. He took a long look at the scenery for a moment, taking everything in from the breathless sight before he made eye contact with you. “You two were right.”

“As much as I love hearing that, it begs the question.” You said. “About what?”

“I shouldn’t have lied to you.” Dean said, he came right out with it. It took less than a second for you to process those words before your mood and expressions were changing all together. “I do remember everything that happened to me in the pit. Everything.”

You waited a moment, knowing what he admitted was going to be tough for him, more terrifying than anything he’d face in his entire life, hunting included. It was a place where your nightmares came alive and things of the unspeakable happened. But the man needed to know he wasn’t going to go at this journey alone. “So tell me about it.” You said, as if that was going to make things suddenly okay again. Like he was really going to open up about his problems to you.

“No.” Dean answered you, not giving you a chance to take a breath. You furrowed your brow and scrunched up your face. You weren’t sure if it was because you were angry at him or concerned from what he was trying to hide from you. “I won’t lie anymore. But I’m not gonna talk about it.”

“Dean, look,” You spoke to him in a calm tone. “You can’t just go at this thing alone. You’ve got to at least let me help.”

“How, Y/N? Do you really think a little heart-to-heart, some sharing and caring, is gonna change anything? Hmm? Do you honestly believe it’s gonna heal us?“ Dean asked you. You crossed your arms over your chest as you glanced away from him. Deep down you knew he was right all along. But you remained silent. "I know how you’ve been yourself. I’m not talking about a bad day here or the other crap we’ve been through, Y/N. You know talking about it with Sam isn’t making it go away.”

You could feel your chest beginning to tighten from the honest truth you didn’t want to admit. You pushed a few stray hairs away from your face as you tried your hardest to remain neutral in your expression. "Actually, it has.” You lied right through your teeth. “Talking about it helps a lot.”

“The things that we saw, there aren’t words. There is no forgetting. There’s no making it better. Because it is right here,” Dean couldn’t get himself to sugar coat this for you. You watched as he tapped his head, you swallowed as he continued on talking. “Forever. So why should I be a selfish bastard and tell you my problems? It’s only going to make things worse, Y/N. Nobody could understand what we saw down there. And I could never make you understand what I went through.” You dropped your gaze to the ground from what he said. It was a bitter pill to swallow but you knew he was right. Dean walked forward and softly kissed the top of your forehead. “So I am sorry. But I love you too much to do that to you.”

\+ + +

You wanted to pretend for a little while longer than you were all right. You wanted to wake up tomorrow morning and march up to Dean, tell him you went at least a few weeks now without having a single flashback or nightmare about the time spent in Hell. For a very brief moment you thought there was a way out of this, that just talking about it could solve all your problems. There was no way anything could get worse. Hell was the bottom of the spectrum, where pure evil lurked in the darkness and turned every thought into a poisonous being that would make anyone flinch at the mere mention of it. You were back out and living your life how you’d wanted it. You honestly thought you could run away from your problems and not relive the torture and every little word and not have it repeat inside your mind like a broken record.

Nobody could prepare you for eternal damnation or tell you about the scenery. Sure there was lore and depictions of it based upon it in the bible. But what you read about didn’t help you for the real deal. There was no flames that burned away your humanity or inhumane acts done by demons after you’d been threatened a million times. Because everyone down there was the same. You understood why they tried to get themselves out of that place. It was a never ending nightmare of darkness and screams from other souls, new and old, from the torture never got any better. Somehow Alister found ways to make it worse each time for all of you. Time went by faster, for the four months you spent down there, it felt longer, like decades. It was never ending. But you fought tooth and nail to keep yourself clinging to humanity for as long as you could. Each time you were put back on the rack, they asked you if you wanted all of it to stop. All you had to do was give in and endure a little bit more pain before it all would get better. You’d be stronger, more powerful than ever. You said no every time.

You thought deep down it would have been easy for you to break. For someone who spent most of your life hidden away from the darkness, a blissful ignorance of how you came about, it should have been easy for you just to say yes. They made you feel vulnerable and weak, like how when you first discovered your mother’s dead body and the wool over your eyes was pulled off. Only a thousand times worse. But it was just another reason for you to keep fighting. You weren’t going to turn into them, you fought too hard to keep yourself from becoming even more of what they wanted. But you knew in time they would get what they desired. Against your will, the humanity you’d clung to would slowly be burned away like Ruby warned you about. It didn’t mean a woman like you was going to give up so easily.

The mental and emotional torture was the worst part about Hell. Down there you had no secrets to keep, all it laid on the cutting room floor for them to use on you, twist every happy memory you had and healthy relationship into a nightmare. They made you believe everyone you grew to love was happy that you were dead. It was so easy to manipulate you. Your parents were dead because of you. The man you fought so hard to save was down here with you with his little brother was forced to roam alone this earth because of you. Soon enough the words turned into words, and the deaths turned into blurs. It was all the same cut and dry routine that brought out the same reaction. You were beginning to become used to the feel of dying every single time you were placed in Alistair’s care, he always spent extra time and on you, making sure the process felt like weeks. He was the one in charge of making demons wicked and foul, as he tried everything to change your mind, all though nothing worked. When you were put back in his care on the third month, he had a little surprise for you. He had someone you’d never thought you would see again.

You tossed and turned around in the hotel bed when the memory began flashing back in your mind. Your fingernails dug into the fabric of the sheets, hard enough to feel your nails pinch at your skin, but nothing was breaking you away from the realistic nightmare. Nothing could have prepared you for who you saw. For a brief moment you thought it was going to be some trick to get you to break. But it wasn’t about you. It was about him, how he needed to let off some much needed aggression. You could see the pain in his eyes for a brief moment, how much he hesitated to touch those weapons and begin. All he needed was a few words of encouragement before it happened. He grabbed the first thing he saw and started. Cutting away at your body and speaking deep dark secrets he’d kept bottled away for years and years. Or maybe it was all the lies they told him. You couldn’t really hear him over the sounds of your pleas and screams, something you hadn’t done since the first time you’d gotten there. But he ignored you. He just kept going.

You didn’t realize you were yelling and whimpering in your sleep until you felt someone’s hands on your shoulders. Your eyes ripped wide open to see the light in your room was on, the sheets that once covered your body were kicked on the ground. Every inch of your body was covered with sweat and your throat hurt. You thought for a second you were still in the nightmare from who you saw sitting on your bed and trying to comfort you. But the feel of his touch made you flinch away. You could feel your breathing coming out in heavy and uneven pants. It was a moment before the sheer panic washed away, and like a regular nightmare, you figured out what was going on.

You were curled up all the way to the headboard with your knees pressed to your chest and Dean sitting at the edge with a terrified look in his eye. You noticed the gun sitting on the nightstand and Sam lingering in the doorway with a worried expression on his face. They thought something was in here trying to hurt you. The first words you managed to say was sorry. Sorry for waking them up, sorry for making such a scene. It was just a nightmare. You stretched out your legs when you managed to get your breathing back to normal and heart rate to a steady beat. It didn’t take much to notice how your pajamas stuck to your skin from working yourself up a sweat. When you looked at the clock, the hands read two in the morning. You’d been asleep for four hours.

You needed a shower, that’s what the next thing you managed to say. You brushed off the entire incident like it was nothing, you got yourself out of bed and headed for your bag to begin pulling out new clothes. With the cold weather coming you could catch a cold. You were talking and rambling, a nervous habit to keep yourself calm for long as you could. You grabbed the clothes and headed for the bathroom and slammed the door shut. When you were alone, silenced with the steady thump of your heartbeat and heavy breathing. You pressed the clumps of clothes to your chest and tried your hardest to keep calm, part wanted you to start crying. But you inhaled a deep breath, reminding yourself it was over, there was no going back. You forced yourself to keep walking to the shower. The clothes were thrown to the countertop and you turned on the water making sure it was at the warmest before you got in.

“Go back to bed, Sammy. I’ll make sure Y/N is okay.” Dean’s broke their concentration away from the bathroom door when they heard the shower turn on. He didn’t seem to realize how tired his voice was until he spoke up, he looked over at his brother to see the young man was staring at him, the sympathetic and worried expression. He looked away from his brother so he could roll his eyes in frustration. “Please.”

This is why he didn’t want to tell you or Sam about what happened in the pit. Because he hated how his brother tried to understand what the both of you went through down there and make the pain go away. Nothing could. Sam couldn’t take away the memories of being tortured or calm one of you down after having a nightmare. No empathy was going to soothe the terrified pleas that woke both of them up from a deep sleep. Dean wasn’t going to bombard your restless mind with his own experiences when you couldn’t clearly handle your own. There was no night terror or deep fear you admitted that was darker than what you experienced in Hell. It was rock bottom, but somehow, both of you were tumbling lower and lower. There were good days, and bad ones. This was the worst you had been yet since admitting everything.

Sam was hesitant to leave his brother and you alone, he might not have known what it was like to experience what the both of you went through, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything in his power to make it go away for a little while. But he nodded his head and left his brother alone, he went back to the empty motel room with a pit of guilt sitting in his stomach. When Sam left, Dean tried busying himself by fixing the sheets and making sure everything was comforting enough. He even made sure to stash the gun away so you wouldn’t get set off again. A little while later, he heard the bathroom door open, he looked over his shoulder to see you standing there with new clothes on and your hair still wet. You tried squeezing out as much water as you could. He noticed how tired and weak you looked. A guilty look began settling across your face from what happened, he didn’t let you speak, or try to apologize. Both of you silently understood.

“Come here, sweetheart.” Dean spoke in a quiet voice as he gestured to the bed he helped fixed up. You could feel your mood beginning to change when you realized he wasn’t going to leave you for the night. He gave you a warm smile when you began walking forward, both of you got into the bed, struggling around to fight the right kind of position until you were comfortably wrapped up in the blankets. You rested your head against his chest, he brought you reassurance by wrapping his arm around your body, pulling you in closer, as if he was expecting you to slither away. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up. "Do you want to talk about it?”

You blinked, suddenly you could feel the tears beginning to well up in your eyes again, just the thought about it made your stomach curl up into knots. “No. You were right. It’s not gonna change anything.” You admitted in a small tone. You could feel Dean’s chest move downwards from what you said. His fingers began making patterns into your arms, the soft touch and his embrace, knowing that he was here, comforting you, brought the conclusion of what you were dreaming about before waking up was just a nightmare. “And besides, you would never hurt me.” Dean remained silent, pretending that he didn’t hear what you muttered underneath your breath. He was beginning to notice the fear was slowly wearing off, you were dozing off, but there was something else you wanted him to do before you could fall asleep. “I know we haven’t done this since we were kids. And I know you’re probably tired, too, but…could you sing to me?”

Dean could feel the ends of his lips stretching into a faint smile from the nostalgic memory both of you hadn’t spoken about in decades. There was an old tradition kept between you and him when you were children, done in secrecy when nobody was around to hear, or in the dead of night when everyone was asleep to remain the tradition in private. Maybe it was because you saw something strange in the dark or Dean was becoming afraid he wasn’t going to be able to visit with Sam when his father was away on a dangerous hunt. The last time he sang it to you was when you were sixteen and he was eighteen. It was after you buried your mother, the house was quiet. The both of you were hidden away in your old bedroom with John sleeping downstairs on the couch and Sam was crashing in the guest room down the hall. Singing to you was the only thing that he could do in order to get you to stop sobbing. It worked every time on the two of you.

He didn’t know why he was all of sudden nervous to sing, it’d been something Dean naturally did when he was in the car with you and his brother, belting out the lyrics to songs he’d heard a million times over. Or just for the sake of annoying you for fun. He cleared his throat and tried his hardest to adjust himself, but it was hard with your weight on top of him. After a second of waiting, he’d gotten the courage he needed. "Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. It’s not warm when she’s away.” He began singing the song he’d heard a million times before, you could feel the vibrations from his soft tone, making you feel safe enough to close your eyes. And when you did there was nothing terrifying waiting for you. All of you saw was peaceful darkness. “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. And she’s always gone too long, anytime she goes away.”

Dean didn’t even have to get to the second verse before he was hearing the soft sounds of your snores. He peeked down slightly to see that you were fast asleep, a peaceful expression resting on your face. When he noticed you were okay, he leaned back in the bed and got himself comfortable, humming the rest of the song before he tried getting himself back to sleep.


	9. I Know What You Did Last Summer.

You watched as the digital letters of the clock that sat on the nightstand right across from the queen sized bed you were occupying had been marked down to the third hour of just sitting here in the silence. You peered away from the clock as you turned your attention to the window with the shades opened for the sunlight peeking through. A frown stretched across your lips when you noticed the Impala was still parked in the same spot since this morning. The brothers mentioned a small outing tonight since there wasn’t a newspaper article that caught your attention and the end of the world seemed to be taking its time for the past week.

Sometimes you were happy from the freedom, other times, it drove to a deeper madness from the lack of distraction. It was your way of pretending that everything was okay, and ignoring the obvious breakdown you had a few days before. Never in your life had a nightmare felt so real. The dangerous things you’d dreamed of were recollections of Hell and possession, even the time you came back to life six feet underneath the ground. What you’d dreamed about was nothing like that. It was almost worse than anything you could imagine.

You shifted away your attention from the open window as you glanced back down to the brand new sketchbook you bought just a few days ago. You didn’t know what sparked inspiration but you couldn’t help yourself but spoil yourself after making a pit stop into town for some extra supplies to accommodate the next few days you and the brothers were going to be spending in town. You didn’t know the last time you drew, it’d been an old hobby of yours since you could pick up a pencil and scribble little lines when you were younger. You managed to get better through the years, all though you’d never thought of it anymore than just a way to keep yourself busy. Maybe with stress that seemed to be piling up even more, you could release some emotions to get yourself focused.

Another few minutes of silence passed as you continued on sketching and darkening more parts of the drawing you spent all afternoon on. When you completely felt satisfied with the work, you dropped the pencil out of your grip where it fell to the paper all before landing on the comforter, where you knew it was going to get lost after you struggled to look for it again. You stretched your aching fingers to keep a cramp from forming as you tossed the sketchbook to the bed to examine the process from afar. Most of the things you’d drew were either things you found around around the room or the sight from the motel window with the shades pulled to see the settling sun. What you sketched tonight made your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You almost didn’t think you drew this yourself as you examined the picture again.

There were two people, a man and a woman, standing there with almost neutral expressions, but somehow, you felt like they were staring at you from the white paper. You leaned forward and grabbed the sketchbook again to see why they looked familiar. You decided to add one more detail that might help. You grabbed the pencil that has been resting against your leg and lifted it up to the paper, and without reason, you jabbed four holes into where the eyes should have been. You flattened out the paper and examined their white eyes, suddenly you felt the picture was complete. But it took a moment before you could feel your breathing become heavier from the memory cross your mind. For whatever reason, you’d drew the poor people Lilith and Alastair possessed when they found you back again. What happened still could make a chill run down your spine.

Knocking on the motel door brought your attention back upward, your head snapped up and your body jumped a few inches in the air. When you hear Dean’s voice asking if he could come in, you clear your throat and shout something at him to come in. You throw the sketchbook downward on the bed when the door opened before being closed after he let himself in. You give him a small smile, hopeful he’s in here just to see you’re still alive today and still not in the mood to talk. You watched him for a moment, expecting for the man to awkwardly stumble around the room for a way to start the conversation to figure out what’s wrong with you. But it seemed Dean knows what exactly he’s doing.

Your face scrunched up when you see him grab your duffel bag from the floor and throw it to the edge of the bed. He zippered it open and started digging around, he doesn’t seem to care when the clothes start pouring out and landing on the bed. When you ask him what the hell he’s doing, Dean pulls out two articles of clothing and laid them on the bed. You frowned when you noticed a shirt he’d pulled out was a shirt that was a favorite of his and a pair of jeans you’d always complained were too tight on for you. Without an ounce of hesitation, you asked him what the hell he was doing. “

"Get dressed, Y/N.” Dean instructed you with a grin spreading across his lips. “We’re having some fun tonight.”

\+ + +

At first you weren’t sure why you’d agreed into leaving your motel room and the comfortable bed you had been occupying for the entire day. You were planning on catching up on some sleep and enjoying what freedom you had left. But after being persuaded a bit more into taking a drink, you could feel yourself starting to loosen up for just a few hours. You didn’t know the last time you and the boys went out to the social scene and drank for the fun of it, surrounded by people with the only goal on their mind to get wasted and forget about their problems. All of you spent some time together at the bar, enjoying the first round of beer that didn’t last long between the three of you, you finished up what you had left in your cup before finding out who was going to buy the next round. With a simple game between brothers—Dean was suckered into it again. He wasn’t too happy about losing, but you and Sam were off after your drinks were refilled, both of you agreed to playing a friendly game of pool after you found it was free.

“So, what are we playing for?” You asked him. You made sure all of the colored and striped pool balls were neatly placed inside the triangle formation before you lifted up the plastic rack. Sam grabbed two wooden cue sticks for the both of you, he shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. How about this—”

“Hey.” You were cut off from a male voice that was coming from behind. You turned around to see there was a guy standing behind the wooden wall that cut off the pool area from the rest of the bar with a rather pissed off expression. You could see in the florescent lights hanging above on the rusty chain he’s bald and rather tall, with his arms stretched out you can make out his tattoos that accompany his leather vest. What Sam notices is the twenties tucked away in the man’s fist. “I called dibs on this table fifteen minutes ago. Beat it.”

Your lips stretched into a frown as your eyebrows furrowed together in frustration from the man’s rather rude interruption. Before you could tell him off, Sam was stepping into the conversation to set up a small plan. “Sorry, man, we didn’t know. My friend and I were just trying to have some fun. Why don’t you and I play a quick and friendly game? Loser takes the table for the night.” You gave Sam a look from his plan that didn’t sound that good. “Hell, why don’t we make it better. Bet ten bucks and we’ll buy you a round of beer.”

It took you a moment to figure out what Sam was planning, he took a crisp ten dollar bill from his back pocket and slammed it against the center of the table. You knew the boys were rather comfortable hustling poor bastards in bars, you’d seen Dean do it enough times over the years of knowing him, and Sam was no exception. It was one of their ways they made money to keep life steady on the road until you started helping out, now it was just for fun. You stepped back and let the fun unfold for the two of you. Soon enough one round of games would turn into several more with the stash of money growing into the hundreds. You pulled up a stool from the other side of the small area and took a seat, you were ready to see all of this unfold until the very victorious end.

Like you had suspected, the man, which you learned was Brian after casual conversation exchanged between the both of you, were starting to see a more sloppier side of Sam start coming through. You supplied more drinks for everyone, thanks to the lovely tricks of a little flirting here and cheering on for the other team. You were almost beginning to find this a little too easy and fun for your own good. Sam was on his third drink tonight and barely keeping it together when he was down two hundred dollars. You weren’t nervous as Brian decided it was about time to call it quits. He began gathering up all of the pool balls and placing them into the plastic rack. Sam was trying his hardest to plead with the man, whom he thought was drunk and desperate.

“Brian, come on, man, just one more.” Sam insisted. He leaned against the pool table with one hand wrapped around the cue stick and the other on the edge of the wooden lining, Brian noticed the younger man was down to his last few sips of his third beer. “Just—Just give me a chance to win it back.”

“Whatever.” Brian said with a small shrug. “It’s your cash, buddy.”

“Excuse me. My brother’s a little sauced to be making bets.“ You looked up to see Dean stepped into the conversation, arriving from the bar to play the concerned sibling and make sure things didn’t get worse than they were about to. Brian didn’t seem to care much, he shrugged his shoulders again and said something about how his brother insisted. "Yeah, but you’ve already taken, what, two bills off him? I’m just saying.”

“Hey, shut up, Dean.” Sam mumbled, his words were a bit slurred. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine.” Dean grumbled at him. "You’re drunk!“

"You know what, let’s make it five hundred.” You slammed the cash right down on the wooden edge of the table, deciding to add even more into this bet for the fun of it. Brian eyed the money for a moment with a spark of greed in his eyes. He thought this was going to be like taking candy from a drunk baby, little did he know what was about to happen. You stepped back and looked over at the younger man, both of you shared the same sly smirk. “Your rack, Sammy.”

Brian watched as the man took position for his first turn on the new game, he could feel a smirk at the ends of his lips, you brought the cup to your lips and settled your attention on Sam. He easily set up the chalk end of the cue stick to where he wanted and took his turn, as all of the balls began bouncing around the table, you watched as one automatically rolled into a pocket like he wanted. Brian’s face dropped in realization of what just happened. Sam stood back into a normal standing position and smirked to himself from the man’s reaction, but as he looked around the bar, his gaze caught a familiar brunette sitting at the counter by herself. “Keep the money.” Sam threw the stick to the table, and without even a single explanation, he was off.

You nearly choked on your drink from what just happened as Dean stared at his brother, unsure of what came over the man. You jumped out of your stool and snatched the money up from the table, ignoring Brian’s frustrated comments from whatever was going on. You worked through the crowd of people, shoving your way forward and followed Sam’s tall figure that stuck out from the other bodies crowding the place. Sam went into the back of the bar to meet a small brunette that was enjoying herself a drink. It took you a moment to figure out why Sam needed to see her so badly. It was Ruby 2.0.

You weren’t exactly sure how the both of you stood ground with one another. After all, the official last time you’d seen her, you sort of sent her back to Hell after Dean gave her a rather cold welcome back when you spotted her and Sam doing some activities you were warned about to stop. But you couldn’t exactly hold a grudge against the demon. She’d tried to help you all when you needed her the most. Dean could certainly keep the act up.

“Well,” His voice came from behind you. It wasn’t hard to picture the glare hardening on his face as he peered down at the demon over your shoulder from where he stood. You could feel yourself rolling your eyes from his snarky attitude. “You got a lot of nerve showing up anywhere near me.”

“I just have some info, and then I’m gone.” Ruby reassured the man.

“What is it?” You asked her.

“I’m hearing a few whispers.” Ruby tried explaining, but she was cut off by Dean.

“Ooh, great, demon whisperers—that’s reliable.” Dean muttered underneath his breath with a sarcastic tone. You couldn’t help yourself but roughly elbow him in the side, nodding your head to butt out of the conversation. You let out a sigh when he took your friendly advice and walked around you and Sam, where he took a spot at the bar. You let out a quiet sigh before directing your attention back to Ruby, wondering what she was here for without any more interruptions.

“Girl named Anna Milton escaped from a locked ward yesterday. The demons seem pretty keen on finding her. Apparently, some real heavy hitters turned out for the easter egg hunt.” Ruby explained what she could to you and Sam. He tried asking what demon it could have been, she shook her head. “No idea. But I’m thinking that she’s important, ‘cause the order is to capture her alive. I just figured that whatever the deal is, you might want to find this girl before the demons do.”

Sam didn’t need much convincing from the woman, you knew whenever demons were involved in getting something they wanted, no good come have come from it. You shrugged your shoulders to go along with the plan. You looked over at Dean to see if he was on board. He only sat there with a sour look on his face from seeing you two acting friendly with Ruby. “Look, maybe we

check it out.” You suggested to him, hoping he would listen to you about this one. But he only gave you a look.

“Actually, we’re working on a case.” Dean lied to the demon. “But, thanks.”

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest, “What case?”

“Uh, we’ve got leads, big leads.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Yeah, well, it sure ain’t goose chasing after some check who, for all we know, doesn’t even exist,” Dean leaned over the bar so he could give his reasons the demon, his face wasn’t too friendly as he continued on with his aggressive attitude toward her. “just because you say she’s important.”

“I’m just delivering the news. You can do whatever you want with it.“ Ruby said. Before she could leave, the demon decided to give Dean the exact same treatment he was giving her. "Far as I’m concerned, I told you, I’m done.”

Ruby rolled her eyes in aggression when she saw Dean throw his hands up into the air, some of his beer spilling out from his drink, but from the smug look on his face, he could give a damn less right now. You stopped Ruby when she was pushing herself out of the chair, Dean might have been over this conversation, but you were curious to start working again, you’d even be willing to take a lead from another demon. “Wait, wait, wait.” You said, making her take a seat again on the stool. “This hospital Anna escaped from—does it have a name?”

\+ + +

One phone call later, you were pleased to hear this Anna Milton woman was in fact a real person, proving Dean wrong from his constant grumbles and complaints about how Ruby was leading all of you on some wild goose chase. You might not have trusted the demon far as you could throw her, but you had to admit she hadn’t tried anything to put your lives in more danger than all of you were already putting yourselves into. And Sam, for whatever reason, seemed to have been rather close with her. You didn’t know what persuaded him to see different in the demon, but Dean didn’t seem to enjoy their new friendship that was rubbing him all in the wrong ways. It was probably the small grudge he kept when she tried helping with the deal you put on yourself and Sam’s abilities with the demon blood. Nothing good came from demons, Ruby was no exception the list.

“Can I get a copy of the missing-person’s report? Great. Thank you.” You finished up the conversation with a friendly police officer from the local county who’d been taking care of the case. After confirming he’d email you all of the information, you gave him another thank you before finishing up the conversation and hanging up the phone. "Well, Anna Milton is definitely real.”

“Doesn’t mean the case is real.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath. You dropped your hand to the papers you’d had shuffled around notepad and flashlight propped against your thighs, the thumping noise echoed through the car, giving a signal of your annoyance from his constant bitter attitude he’d been showing since leaving the motel. “And this hospital’s a three-day drive.”

“We’ve driven further for less, Dean.” Sam said, pointing out that little fact to his older brother. It seemed to have been enough to keep the man quiet enough for a moment. Sam looked out the passenger’s side window to see a light rainfall dripping down the glass, but he quickly turned his head to look at Dean when he heard a scoff come out from the man’s breath. He saw the other man sit there in the driver’s side with a pissed off expression as he shook his head in anger. “You got something to say, say it.”

“Oh, I’m saying it—this sucks.” Dean argued with the man, adding fuel to the conversation.

“You’re not pissed we’re going after the girl.” Sam said, knowing what was getting his brother all riled up for. “You’re pissed Ruby threw us the tip.”

“Right. ‘Cause as far as you’re concerned, the hell-bitch is practically family.” Dean said, your eyes were drawn upwards from the notes you’d jotted down. What he said seemed to have made it feel like he was almost trying to get under everyone’s skin because he wasn’t happy with the plan that was turning out his way. “Yeah, boy, something major must’ve happened while Y/N and I were downstairs, 'cause I come back, and—and you’re BFFs with a demon?”

“I told you, Dean,” Sam’s voice was growing more quieter, wanting to be done with this argument once and for all. “she helped me go after Lilith.” 

“Well, thanks for the thumbnail—real vivid.” Dean grumbled at his brother with a tone of sarcasm. “You want to fill in a little detail?”

“Sure, Dean, let’s trade stories.” Sam snapped back at his brother. He was growing closer to the edge of his patience, and without even thinking, he threw a low jab at his brother. “You first. How was Hell? Don’t spare the details.”

You couldn’t stand this anymore, all of you had only been inside the car for the past hour, and if they kept this up, you were going to throw yourself out of the Impala. “What the hell is wrong with you two? We’re working a case. A girl’s life is in danger, who cares where this tip came from.” You said to the both of them. You were now leaning against the front seat, poking your head in between the both of them. Neither one of brothers seemed to change their expression. “If you two want to continue on acting like children, fine. Here’s some new rules for the rest of this drive I learned in kindergarten —You don’t have anything nice or helpful to say, don’t say anything at all.”

You waited a moment for either one of them to ask about the information you found to keep the conversation at least civil. But neither one of them said a word. You leaned back in your seat from defeat and grabbed the mess of papers you’d accidentally threw everywhere. You listened to the rumble of thunder and heavy raindrops that splattered against the roof the car. For the longest time you tried your hardest to focus back on the information you were given. But after five minutes, you had stop when a question kept repeating itself in your mind. What happened to him when you were in Hell? Sam was distant from ever speaking about his time away, and Dean didn’t dare touch the subject. You told them both everything what you went through. But it seemed they couldn’t give the common curiosity to at least give you a sliver of truth to hold you over.

\+ + +

Three and a half days later, you and the boys arrived into town. You gotten a motel room before heading for the hospital. It gave all of you changed into the proper formal clothing and you skimmed through the information the police gave you after you were connected to wifi so you could check your emails. You and the boys headed over to the hospital in the early morning to visit with the psychologist whom had spent the afternoon with Anna before she made her great escape. Everything seemed to have pointed to a demon possession from the report you skimmed through, sometimes the victims had no recollection of what they had done. But it seemed no matter how big the demon chose his host, Anna seemed to have been stronger, despite her tiny frame that was noted in the police report.

You looked around the hospital room to see there was absolutely nothing she could defend herself with. The doors were locked in from the outside and all the furniture was bolted down for the patient’s safety. The psychologist said Anna used the dresser to hit her attacker by pushing and pinning the man against the door, making him crack his head roughly against the small glass window, you could still see the small spiderweb cracks. You decided to try for yourself to see if you could move the heavy dresser that was tall as you, but even with all of your strength, there was no way you were moving it quick enough to slam someone against a door. You stopped struggling after a moment and placed your hands on your hips, you caught your breath and looked over at the woman, who watched the entire process unfold.

“Now,” You tried speaking after taking your last deep breath, you gave the woman a smile you let out a long and winded exhale. “Sorry. I read the orderly has no recollection of Anna’s escape. Is that true?”

“Apparently, she knocked him unconscious. The blow caused some amnesia.” She explained to all of you. “He doesn’t even remember coming into her room.”

“That’s a hell of a right hook to knock out a guy that’s got eighty pounds on her.” Dean noted, seeming to find this strange a woman of her stature could have done something like this all by herself. Whatever she was packing, it sure could explain, even the tiniest bit, of why the demons wanted to get their hands on her.

“We think she may have planned this, she waited behind the door.” The psychologist said, nodding her head back to where she was standing. “Adrenaline and the element of surprise must have been what she used to overpower the orderly.”

Everyone followed behind the woman to step out into the empty halls after you examined what you could in the room. “Uh, you mentioned Anna’s illness was recent.” Sam said, seeming to remember the reason why she was here in the first place. But for legal purposes and the family’s request, the was left out from the report for any possible lingering eyes based on the name her family carried in this town.

“Two months ago, she was happy, well-adjusted journalism major, lots of friends—bright future.”

“She, what happened?” Dean asked. “She just flipped?”

“Well,” The psychologist fell silent for a small moment as her gaze dropped to the floor before looking up at the three of you to answer. “That’s the tragedy of schizophrenia. Within weeks, Anna was taken over by delusions. She thought demons were everywhere.” You swallowed down from what she mentioned, you blinked and nodded as you took the paperback book she’d been holding this entire conversation. As she went on, you opened up the book to see what it was. “It’s not uncommon for our patients to believe that monsters are real.”

You were only half-listening to what the woman had to say, your attention was being taken over from what you were seeing. Anna seemed to have coped with her time in the hospital by drawing, all of them were done with a oil based crayon from all the dark and smudged looking pictures you examined. The first two seemed innocent enough, it looked like she was a bit of a religious person from her attempts of drawing a stained glass window with a cross on top. You flipped to the third page, and what you saw made your heart skip a thump. On the top page were written with three familiar words, “Raising the Witnesses.” Your eyes skimmed down to the picture to see there was a woman with her hands up and eyes closed, along with four different figures below, it looked like they were crawling their way out of their graves. It was Lilith and the the souls she raised.

You cautiously turned to the next page, what you saw wasn’t exactly comforting, either. It was of a man’s face on the right hand side, in the background was a row of houses and jack o'lanterns placed outside their house. “Samhain the next Seal is Broken” was scribbled on the top of the page. “That’s revelations.” You heard Dean whisper to his brother.

“Since when does the book of revelations have jack o'lanterns?” The psychologist asked after overhearing what the man said.

Dean let out a light chuckle, “It’s a, uh, it’s a little-known translation.”

“Well, Anna’s father was a church deacon. When she became ill, her paranoia took on religious overtones. She was convinced the Devil was about to rise up and end the world.“ She said, explaining what her interpretations of the pictures could mean. It only sounded like this Anna was somehow stuck in the middle of this mess, and for whatever reason, her illness was spot on. "I hope you find her. It’s dangerous for her to be out there alone right now.”

You nodded your head, knowing what she said was the understatement of the year. Right before the psychologist could wander off to help her other patients this morning, you asked her if you could hold onto the sketchbook for the rest of the day before returning it later this afternoon. She didn’t seem to find, she even thought it’d be best if you kept onto it until Anna was found safely. You gave her a smile before directing your attention back to the book, your mind beginning to wonder how she knew all of this information. As the boys began discussing the topic, you quietly followed behind. You turned the next page to see what she could have drawn. Part of you was hopeful she could have somehow been one of the special children Yellow Eyes was working on, it could explain her knowledge. But what you saw caught you off guard, the picture drawn in the black pastels made you stop dead in your tracks.

The picture was roughly and sloppily done, like she was trying to get the image out of her head. You looked above to see if there was a caption written, but the white paper remained blank. You furrowed your brow and flipped to the next page, what you saw was more detailed and illustrated. You swallowed when you noticed the almost familiar features, and out of spite, you glanced up to see your reflection in the tinted glass window of the empty hospital room. Anna made a sketch of you, almost everything down the perfect details of your face, but your eye color was replaced with the charcoal black. What she had written on the top page drew your attention back down for just a second.

“Y/N,” You quickly jumped out of your thought when you heard your name being called down the hall. You looked up to see that Sam was standing far head with his brother walking even further down to the exit. He gave you a concerned look when you slammed the sketchbook shut and pressed it against your chest, you’d even went as far to cross your arms over your chest to keep it safe. You gave him a friendly smile when you began walking forward to him. “You okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah.” You whispered with a nod. “I’m just thinking.”

You gave him the tiniest sort of smile before you were walking off, leaving him alone for a moment to figure out what was bothering you. Instead you weren’t going to say anything, the scribbled words that must’ve said second seal below your picture wasn’t something that sat lightly in your mind. If you were confused about this apocalypse and your entire role through this mess, what you stumbled upon wasn’t helping the worried feeling that was starting to grow in the deep pit of your stomach. Your two front teeth sank down into your bottom lip as your hands wrapped tighter around the sketchbook. Wherever this Anna woman was, you were hoping you could find her before these demons could. Because you were starting to understand why they were so fond of her.

\+ + +

If you were a woman being hunted down by demons and seeing strange things, where would you go? Somewhere you would feel safe. You suspected Anna might have tried to go back home so she could at least feel safe from everything that was going on. It was the only possible lead you had right now, and honestly, it would be something you would do. No matter what, parents would care and try to make their child feel comfortable from what was going on with them before it was time to go back. You and the brothers tracked down the Milton household where you pulled up to a nice and quiet neighborhood from the presentation on the outside. The three of you walked up the porch steps and gathered around the front door, Dean took the honor and knocked a few times to signal your presence. You waited by staring at the little wooden namesake kept just right across from the door for a moment, you looked away when nobody was coming to answer the door.

“Maybe they’re not home.” Dean suggested.

You furrowed your brow, “Both cars are parked in the driveway.”

Dean peered through the clear glass window through the cracks of the designs, he noticed there was nobody inside. He reached out a hand and decided to check and see if the door was locked anyway, and with a small twist, the front door quietly creaked open. He waited a moment for someone to come, but when nobody wandered out from where they were hiding, Dean opened the door wider before stepping inside the home. “Mr. and Mrs. Milton?” Sam called out, he stepped inside after his brother. Dean skimmed the room to his left for a moment, not taking much caution when he nobody was there as he traveled deeper inside the first floor. “We’re from the sheriff’s department. We just wanted to ask you a couple of questions.” 

You quietly waited at the front door for a moment, your eyes wandering around to see if there was any sort of clue to find out where Anna’s parents were. But it was the mumbled words Sam said underneath his breath that caught your attention. You closed the door behind you and walked into the living room that was on your left, Dean circled back around to see what the fuss was about. You could feel a sigh escaping your mouth when you saw what the younger man stumbled upon. Well, the good news was you found Anna’s parents. But the bad news was the demon must’ve gotten here first. You stepped further inside the living room to see the older couple were lying on the starch white carpet, a pool of blood staining the fabric after their throats were slit clean.

Sam walked in deeper into the room when he spotted something pale yellow on the ground, all though it was small, the substance stuck out from the pristine cleanliness of the home. He crouched down to take a small dab of the powder and placed it under his nose, all it took was sniff before he was regretting it after the smell of rotten eggs burned at his senses. “Sulfur.” He coughed out. Sam rubbed his fingers to wipe away the powder as he stood back up. “The demons beat us here. Whatever the deal is with this Anna girl—”

"Yeah, they want her. They’re not screwing around.” Dean said, finishing his brother’s thought. He looked around the living room for a moment before he spotted today’s mail leaning against the fireplace mantel. He stepped forward and began searching through. “All right, so, I’m ‘Girl, Interrupted,’ and I know the score of the apocalypse, just busted out of the nut-box, possibly using superpowers, by the way. Where do I go?”

You couldn’t answer that one for him just yet. As Dean occupied himself with going through the mail to see if there was anything, Sam ventured off deeper into the living room for answers. He spotted a few pictures and headed forward to see what he could find. Most of the frames were filled with Anna, a young and happy looking woman, one of them was her dressed in a cap and gown holding her high school diploma with a toothy grin. The rest of them was with her parents, everyone looked happy, showing no sign of how things lead up to this event. Sam spotted a certain picture of Anna and her parents standing outside a church, something caught his attention.

“Hey, Y/N, you got those sketches from Anna’s notebook? Let me see 'em.” Sam seemed to have been on something. He walked forward with a picture frame in his hand, you took out the sketches you’d neatly ripped out from the notebook that were deemed necessary and met him at the small round table. You handed them over to him as he placed the picture down to the table for a moment. You glanced down to examine the photograph, the woman you saw didn’t seem on the verge of a mental breakdown or capable of knowledge like this. She appeared to be a happy and sweet redhead, standing outside the local church. Sam skimmed through all the sketches until he found the one he was looking for. “Check this out.”

Sam placed down the artwork of the circular stained glass window her psychologist said she’d been working on all morning. When you glanced over at the photograph, you knew the connection Sam made. “She was drawing the window of her church.” You mumbled. You spread out the rest of the sketches, you stumbled upon a few more, and suddenly, you knew where she could have been. “If you were religious, scared, and had demons on your ass, where would you feel safe?”

\+ + +

Unfortunately demons weren’t susceptible to churches. You learned that when you crossed paths with a nasty demon named Meg, she went after an old friend of the Winchesters, a pastor that used to help care for the brothers when John would take off for long hunts. She found the man at his church and attacked him. for some twisted revenge. You hoped Anna was there, trying to find salvation after what came of her life in the past few months, and what she’d done to that demon. It was a quick stop at the motel to change your clothes into something more functional and a search of the address for the church before all of you were off once more.

It was a fifteen minute ride to the church before you and the boys were off, and to your luck, the place was empty for the afternoon. Nobody was around to confess a few sins, and you didn’t even see demons around in sight. All of you checked every possible inch of the first floor to see if you could find Anna anywhere, but she was nowhere to be seen. You followed behind with your gun resting at your side for a moment to peer above the staircase. Sam was taking the lead, his own weapon drawn forward for any possible demon lurking above as Dean stood in the middle with Ruby’s knife at his side. When nothing seemed to have popped out from the shadows, everyone began making their way forward into the staircase of the church. You quietly followed behind, making sure not to make the same mistakes by putting pressure on a squeaky step. All of you arrived at the top, as Sam stopped for a moment to make sure the coast was clear, but when he motioned for you and Dean to follow behind, you traveled upward.

You examined the attic for a moment, taking in notice of things from dusty furniture to old status of religious figures displayed around the place. But it was the moving shadow behind the stained glass frame that caught your attention. You could see the shadow make one step, but when it heard footsteps, it was drawn back. You knew it wasn’t a demon, it had to be the woman you were looking for. When you looked over at the boys, you motioned for them to lower their weapons. You put the safety of your gun on before you shoved it into the back of your jeans for the moment.

“Anna?” You called out her name, hopeful she would feel safe from the comfort of your voice. You watched as her shadow only moved deeper into the corner. You took cautious steps forward, not wanting to scare the poor woman even more. “We’re not gonna hurt you. We’re here to help. My name is Y/N. This is Sam, and his brother, Dean.”

“Y/N?” Anna repeated your name, her voice was quiet and rather timid. “Not Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Um,” You shrugged your shoulders when the boys were thrown off from what she said. “Yeah.”

You waited a fraction of a second before you could see the strands of her deep red hair peek out from the sides of the window she was hiding in. Her hands wrapped around the cold fixture as her eyes were shown to see who she was dealing with. Anna’s gaze was fixated on you for the longest amount of time. Her brow furrowed from what she was seeing. “Your—Your face. I don’t understand what’s going on.“ Anna seemed to have been mumbling only to herself. You could see her slowly move out just the slightest, as if she was trying to get a closer look at you. "The angels say you’re just like the man who came after me. But his face was hideous. You look…normal.”

Her fixation was taken away from you when she noticed the man you were standing next to. She seemed to have been drawn toward Dean, for just the presence of him made her feel safe. You watched as she emerged from her hiding spot. “And you’re Dean. The Dean?” Anna stared at the man with almost a glint in her eye, the man’s lips stretched into the faintest smile as he shrugged his shoulders, almost bashful from the attention. She walked forward with a smile spreading across her face. "It’s really you. Oh, my God. The angels talk about you. You were in Hell, but Castiel pulled you out, and some of them think you can help save us.” And you,” Anna look forward at Sam, she didn’t give him such a warm welcome. “Some of them don’t like you at all. But they talk about you two all the time lately. I feel like I know you.”

"So,” You couldn’t help yourself but ask out of curiosity as a small smile spread across your lips from what you were about to ask. They were dicks, but powerful and newer creatures you’d never faced before. You were almost fascinated from what you heard. “You talk to angels?”

“Oh, no. No, no way. Um, they probably don’t even know I exist. I just kind of…overhear them.” Anna mumbled, her hesitation toward you seemed to have vanished when she noticed you seemed normal, and not how they’d described you. She glanced down at the ground from the question as her lips twitched into an embarrassed smile. You blinked a few times, surprise coming from what you heard, and out of curiosity, you repeated after her. “Yeah, they talk, and sometimes I just, hear them in my head.”

“Like,” Dean trailed off for a moment, wondering if her attention was being pulled into two different conversations. “Right now?”

“Not right this second, but a lot.” Anna explained to the three of you. Her words seemed almost rushed out, like she was hoping someone would ask for the truth she’d been holding in for so long. “And I can’t shut them out, there are so many of them.”

"So, they lock you up with the cases of the crazies when really you were just…tuning into angel radio?” Dean asked, hopeful he was understanding what was going on with her. Anna’s lips stretched into a faint smile. She nodded her head and mumbled a thank you.

“Anna,” Sam ask the woman an easy question. “When did the voices start?”

“I can tell you exactly—September eighteenth.” She answered. You knew what was so important about that date.You looked over at the man standing to your right, it was when Dean was freed from Hell. “First words I heard, clear as a bell—'Dean Winchester is saved.’”

Dean seemed to have been overwhelmed from what he heard. He looked at his brother for answers, all though the young man seemed overwhelmed to answer. You were still trying to wrap your head around from what was going on yourself. “What do you think?” He asked the both of you. It only resulted with you shrugging your shoulders and Sam scoffing, not sure even his big brain could explain. “Well, at least now we know why the demons want you so bad. They get ahold of you, they can hear everything the other side’s cooking. You’re 1-900-Angel.”

Anna smiled from the strange compliment, she let out the faintest laugh, seeming to start feeling comfortable around the three of you when she realized you weren’t here to hurt her or take her back to the hospital, Instead, you were going to help get her to safety, away from all the danger. “Hey, um, do you know—are my parents okay?” Her question made your smile faintly disappear. “I—I didn’t go home. I was afraid.”

You could feel your face drop from the news she didn’t witness first hand, you opened your mouth to tell her, but her question was never answered from the suddenly slamming of the door you heard coming from behind. You peered over your shoulder to see that it was Ruby. She locked the attic door and rushed up the steps. “You got the girl. Good,” She wasn’t here for small talk from her tone. “Let’s go.”

“Oh!” Anna screamed out in horror. “Her face!”

The young woman back away when she could see the demon’s face, the horrendous and true one that was kept hidden away from anybody she could possess, it was the face you’d seen in the last few hours of your demon deal, somehow Anna could see them for who they were without that hanging over her head. You now understood the first impression she’d gotten of you, considering how you came back from Hell, there were things disrupted in your soul. But you presented yourself as normal. All though Ruby couldn’t hide herself good as you. Sam tried his hardest to calm down the woman by saying she was here to help, his brother did the opposite. “Yeah, don’t be so sure.”

“We have to hurry.” Ruby warned all of you, knowing time wasn’t exactly the best thing to be testing now. Dean questioned why, deciding to push the woman’s buttons on this one for the hell of it, and the fact he wouldn’t trust anything she said. “Because a demon’s coming—big-timer. We can fight later, Dean.”

“Well, that’s pretty convenient.” Dean said, adding fuel to an argument you didn’t have patience to hear. “Showing up right when we find the girl with some bigwig on your tail?”

“I didn’t bring him here. You did. He followed you from the girl’s house. We got to go now.” Ruby hissed at the man. Dean opened his mouth to fight even more with the demon, but you cut him off before he could say another word. You tapped him on the arm, dragging his attention to a gruesome sight you’d never seen before. Your attention was stuck on the statue of the Virgin Mary, your mouth parted open when you noticed a trail of blood starting to drip out from her eyes, like she was weeping tears. Whatever demon that was lurking around was starting to cause a shift of balance around this place, a serious threat was coming. “It’s too late. He’s here.”

You couldn’t break your concentration away from the statue, as Sam rounded up Anna and helped her into hiding, you stepped forward, watching as the porcelain face cried blood. You swallowed and broke away your gaze when you heard footsteps approach from behind. Dean gave you a reassuring nod, he pulled out the demon knife and kept it close to his side. Sam came back after Anna was safe, Ruby approached the man when he noticed he took out the flask of holy water. What all of you were about face wasn’t going to be enough, she knew better than to poke the beast with a twig. What she proposed wasn’t something you or Dean were going to be happy with, but she didn’t care at a desperate time like this.

“No, Sam, you got to pull him right away.” Ruby instructed the young man. Dean shook his head, and while he put in a few words, the demon cut him off, knowing exactly what he was going to say before he could. “Now’s not the time to bellyache about Sam going darkside. He does his thing, he exorcised that demon, or we die.”

Ruby waited a moment for him to protest, Dean fell silent. Sam glanced down at the silver flask for a moment, he let out a sigh, he tucked away the holy water before turning his focus on the locked door. You shifted around your weight of your feet, your fingers brushing against the handle of your gun, hoping whatever you were about to face was good enough to at least make an escape with Anna if things went south. You didn’t know what to expect. But you could feel your hand drop away from the handle when the attic door easily flung right open with a loud bang. The demon who stood in the doorway was possessing an older man, something at first glance could have been no threat, but looks could be deceiving. It mattered what he was holding on the inside that counted.

The demon walked up the small flight of stairs, his fingers grazing the banister, brushing up a bit of dust on the way. His face grimaced for a moment at what he’d touched, and as he wiped away his hands and directed his gaze to the examined the group of hunters and the little demon at their side. His lips stretched into an almost amused smirk . Sam lifted up his hand and concentrated, remembering everything he needed to exorcise this demon. And for a moment things seemed to have started going well, the demon stopped in his tracks as his eyes flickered white, he wrapped his hand around his neck. While you waited for the cloud of black smoke to start rising from his body, the demon merely coughed. You blinked in surprise when he shifted back to normal, his smile grew even wider from the small party trick.

“That tickles.” The demon chuckled out. He took a few steps forward, his index finger wagged back and forth, taunting the young man with a disapproving move. “But you don’t have the juice to take me on, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes widen when he realized things were about to go terribly wrong. Before anyone could stop it, the demon easily lifted the man up from the ground, you watched as he was being dragged across the room, and before you knew it, he was roughly thrown down the staircase. The banister broke into pieces from his weight, and from the thumping sounds, he tumbled his way down into the rough end. Dean knew there was another way to win this fight. The olde man drew the knife forward and went forward at the demon. You and Ruby didn’t waste time trying to get Anna out of danger as you wanted to make sure Sam was okay. You headed for the closet and ripped open the door. You shoved coats and old clothes around until you found Anna curled up on the floor. She only huddled in deeper when she took the sight of you, frustrated and angry. You ignored her screams. You bent down and yanked her upward before putting her into the trusty hands of Ruby.

“I’m sorry. I really am. But I promise Ruby is gonna get you to safety.” You reassured the young woman as you ushered her to the staircase. Ruby was right at your side, knowing she needed to get Anna out of here and make sure that Sam was safe. The words seemed to have calmed the woman down just the slightest, but your facial expressions didn’t match your worried expression from what you were letting happen. Dean was trying to fight off the demon, but things were going south as he struggled. And it would only be a matter of seconds until the demon realized Anna was getting away. Without another thought, you shoved her and Ruby out of the doorway. “Go!”

You slammed the wooden door shut behind you and pressed your backside against it for a second until you figured out the next move. You frantically began looking around from the small staircase to see what was going on. Dean been trying to fight off the demon long as he could, but when you saw him lying on the ground after going a few rounds with him, you noticed the knife lying at his feet from accidentally losing it. But the demon was nowhere in sight. You could feel your face start to scrunch up from what was going on. All though you still had the gun hiding in the back of your jeans, it wouldn’t be enough, you needed the demon knife to fight off the monster. You focused your attention on the sight in front of you. If you were quick enough, you could grab the knife just in time—or Dean could. Someone needed to stab this demon to end this once and for all.

You cautiously examined every inch of the room as you began walking straight over to Dean, you needed to make sure he was at least conscious enough before you could make the next move on the plan. But you could get your answer when you took your guard down just for a moment, that’s when you heard him shout your name from the threat lingering behind you. You frantically turned around on your heels and tried drawing out your gun, it was something to at least hold him down, but you could feel it slip out from your fingers after the demon punched you straight in the face. The blow wasn’t hard enough for you to lose balance, just the right momentum to catch you off guard. You could hear the gun clatter to the floor and Dean’s painful groans as he tried getting to his feet. Only it ended with him being forced back into the banister he was leaning before against and yet another punch when you tried fighting. You could feel a pair of hands wrap around your shirt and pull you close, making you into the milky white eyes of the demon.

“Hello again, Y/N.” The demon spoke your name with such a casual, and yet, a cynical tone that could make anyone become frightened from the sight of him. He blinked, making his eyes go back to a normal shade after you stared at him with only a threatening glare. “Don’t you recognize me? Oh, I forgot—I’m wearing a pediatrician instead of your friendly neighbor. I’m offended.” You could feel his name at the tip of your tongue, but before you could speak his name, the demon punched you once more to keep you silent, not wanting to hear you just yet. “We were all so close…in Hell.”

“Alistair.” Dean spoke the demon’s name with a venomous tone.

“After what I did to the both of you. This is the thanks I get.” Alistair shook his head, you tried to open your mouth to make a comment. But he threw back his fist and landed yet another punch, making a familiar rush of pain spread through your body. You were reduced to a swollen face with blood trickling down your nose and lip. It didn’t stop you from spreading a smirk across your lips from his hard work that didn’t pay off, for you, at least. “I slaved for months on you two, cutting and carving you into perfection. You were always my favorite pet, Y/N.” You could feel yourself being tossed to the ground, making you land on your hands and knees. Alistair stood over you, a small smirk spreading across his lips when he watched you crawl away. “Come on. Don’t tell me this is what you’re reduced to. A pathetic little bitch who lets him win your battles. And after what he did to you. My, my. Maybe you do need more time down there.”

Alistair’s speciality wasn’t just torturing souls, he’d had a knack to take something you’d cared for and turned into the worst nightmare imaginable. He’d speak to you while you were being tortured. It was mental and psychical abuse all at the same time—cut a little body piece here, tell you how everything that went wrong in your life was all your fault. It’d make you go insane after you’d gotten used to the physical torture. But you didn’t let him finish the thought. While he’d been going on, you reached out a hand to grab ahold of the demon knife and pull it closer to you, waiting for the right moment until you could use it on him. The thought of killing Alistair with the demon knife, after what he did to you and Dean, seemed to have been enough to make you stumbling back to your feet. Your vision was blurry as the pain throbbed inside your body, but you kept going, Alistair’s cocky smirk was enough of a sight to make you charge forward.

You stabbed him directly in the heart, a smirk of your spreading across your lips from the leverage you’d gotten over him from the surprise attack. But your move only lasted as a simple stab wound. He wrapped his hands around the handle of the knife and tried his hardest to fight you off, the only thing you’d managed to do was poke at the beast. “You’re gonna have to try a whole lot harder than that, sweetheart.” Alistair taunted at you.

The demon pushed you away as he tried getting the knife out from his body. You went stumbling back a few steps, you managed to catch yourself and look over at Dean, who was free from the bond Alistair once had on him. You rushed over to him when you noticed he was beaten badly, worse than you. Both of you knew time was running out, and with the demon knife having little effect on Alistair, you needed to find a way out of here. You knew the doorway was too far and there was no sign of Sam. As you glanced around the attic, your eyes spotted the stained glass window and the colorful shadows that reflected across the floor. You quickly twisted your head at Dean, who had caught what you were staring at. He realized what you were thinking about doing, and while he tried shaking his head to disapprove this plan, there was moments before the demon was about to yank out the knife and returned to what he was doing. There was no way you were going to let that happen.

You grabbed a hold of Dean’s hand and yanked him forward. Both of you raced fast at you could to the window. As Alistair finally pulled the knife out of his chest, you and Dean were jumping straight at the window, and free falling through the air with shards of glass being another obstacle when you landed on the ground. You were falling and falling for what felt like forever. You forced yourself to look at the concrete ground below you, and in a quick instinct, you shielded your face as you landed belly first to the cold and hard concrete. It was worse than you imagined. All through your clothes had done a somewhat decent job of keeping the broken glass from cutting up your skin, there was a stinging pain in your arm and a throbbing ache resting through your entire body.

You tried your hardest to get to your feet when you realized what you’d done. Sam wasn’t too far from running forward after he saw what was going on. Dean forced himself to a standing position with his right arm resting against his opposite shoulder. You could feel every sort of profanity you knew in the English language come slipping out of your mouth when Sam didn’t even warn you as he got frustrated from waiting for you to get up. He’d forced himself into bending down and carrying you to the Impala that was parked just across the way, but it felt so far. All of you, wounded and bloody, managed to get there; Sam helped you into the backseat as Dean forced himself into the passenger side, leaving his little brother to take the driver’s side. You leaned against the leather seat, wincing when you felt the vibrations from the engine. Sam pressed his foot on the gas, sending the last image of the church of Alistair looming out the broken window, his hands wrapped around the demon knife with a glare resting on his face.

\+ + +

“Stay still.”

Sam’s endless amount of warnings weren’t enough to keep you from squirming in your spot and trying your very hardest to use the last of your adrenaline to fight off his iron like grip that was the only thing that was pinning you down. You sat at the edge of the motel bed with your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip, you tried your hardest to keep another painful cry from escaping your mouth from what was happening. Besides the severe bruising around your body and the mild concussion you’d suffered from jumping out the window, you noticed a deep cut on the upper arm. Deep enough to require at least a dozen stitches to keep you from losing anymore blood. Since you couldn’t go to the hospital, the next best thing was to do was let Sam go at it with a sterilized needle (stirred around in the highest percentage of alcohol you had before running it under hot water) and black thread. You’d done it too many times to count with the brothers. Now that you were here, having to endure the pain of feeling the needle prick through your sensitive skin and pull it back together, it was getting harder to listen to Sam’s request.

“Are you almost done?” Dean, who’d been working through his shoulder wound, was beginning to grow impatient himself as he iced his minor wounds He leaned against the bathroom sink to examine his face was starting to discolor as the bruises were beginning to settle. His clothes were covered in blood, a mixture of everyone’s after struggling to get inside to safety after arriving back to the motel. Dean was starting to grow impatient when his brother answered with that he was going fast as he could. You weren’t exactly being helpful when you cursed at the young man for being rough after you were yanked down again back to the bed after flinching. Dean pushed himself to a standing position and began walking to the two of you, wondering how the progress was going. “Good, ‘cause you know I got a dislocated shoulder here.”

“Boo hoo—You son of a bitch!” You growled at Sam in frustration. You huffed out a grunt when you felt the thread accidentally being pulled a little too roughly than your liking on the thread, causing you to snap at the younger man. He mumbled an apology before he got back to making the final stitches to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally rip open more if you moved wrong. “Are we almost done?”

“We would have been done sooner if you learned to stop moving so much. And I’ll pop your shoulder back when I’m finished with Y/N, Dean.“ Sam said to his brother. He glanced up for just a moment to see the older man was looming over them, wondering how the process was coming along with a bottle loosely hanging in his grip after taking a few swings. Sam pulled on the thread to make sure that your stitches were neatly pulled into place before reaching for the small medical scissors to cut off the string. You could feel a sigh of relief beginning to build up, but Sam was doesn’t done just yet. "Give me that.”

Sam waved a hand at his brother for the bottle, it took a second before he got ahold of it, leaving you baffled for a moment. He didn’t give you a warning when he grabbed a hold of your wounded arm, lifting it up just at the right angle for what he was about to do next. He tilted the bottle over your stitched up wound that was still bleeding just a bit, and since he needed to wash away the blood and disinfect it, he poured the alcohol out, making you sink your teeth into your bottom lip again. Your fist clenched into a fist as you tried to remind yourself that this was going to help an infection from coming. Dean tried to help distract you by talking, but his subject only made your nerves flare up with more aggression. “So, you lost the magic knife, huh?”

You snatched the bottle away from Sam when you heard his question that was gnawing at you since you’d gotten back from the church. “Yeah, saving your ass.” You hissed at him. You put the bottle to your lips and took a swing, wincing at the burning sensation that erupted in your throat, but you swallowed it down. “We’re lucky enough to be alive.”

“Who the hell was that demon?” Sam asked, making you freeze in your spot for a moment.

“No one good.” Dean answered his brother. “We got to find Anna.”

“Ruby’s got her. I’m sure she’s okay.” Sam reassured the both of you. You nodded your head, not in the mood to argue right now or ponder about if the young woman was okay. You were bloodied, bruised and tired. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed with a fresh change of clothes. But you couldn’t risk the chance of stepping out of this motel room. Sam made himself useful again when he got up from the bed and worked on the shoulder he needed to help his brother with. Both of them got into position. “All right. On three. One—”

Sam didn’t waste time in putting pressure on the shoulder bone, the hideous sounds of bones shifting and popping back into place made your eyes shut for just a second, wincing at the pain Dean had felt. The older Winchester groaned in pain from the feeling as he tried walking it off, you grabbed the icy cold towel from Sam and lightly pressed it against your wound like he told you to do. “You sure about Ruby?” Dean’s voice trailed from the bathroom again as he iced his shoulder. You rolled your eyes from the argument that was about to break out. “‘Cause I think it’s just as likely she’s used us to find radio girl and brought that demon in to kill us.”

“No, she took Anna to keep her safe.” Sam said.

“Yeah. Well, why hasn’t she called to tell us where she is?” Dean questioned the young man.

“Because that demon is probably watching us right now, waiting to follow us right back to Anna again.” Sam said, painting the chilling thought into your head. You looked away from him as you glanced over at the window, wondering if Alistair really was looming out in the dark motel parking lot, waiting for the right time to finished what he started. But what the younger man said next made a slight chuckle escape your throat.” That’s why he let us go.”

“You call this letting us go?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I do. Look, killing us would have been no problem for that thing.” Sam said in a serious tone. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes when he wasn’t looking. If that demon had his way, he would have had all of you begging for him to kill you from what he was capable of. “That’s why, for now, we just got to lay low and wait for Ruby to contact us.”

“How’s she gonna do that?” You asked him another question. He answered you with a shrug, you looked at him for a moment. He’d been always so skeptical of the demon. Sure there was a time when he was trusting of Ruby when she promised a way out for you and Dean. But after she was proved wrong, you’d thought he distanced himself from her or at least send her back to Hell for good. He didn’t. And whenever Dean tried to pick a fight with Ruby, Sam was always on her side, and tried his hardest to prove she was good. “Why do you trust her so much?” 

Sam let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, “I told you, Y/N.”

“No. You’re gonna have to do better than that. I deserve some answers here. You know I do.” You said, shaking your head at his excuse. Sam looked at you with a tiresome expression at what you said. He didn’t want to start the same argument he’d had several times with his brother over the past few months. You changed your tone of voice into a softer one. You even tried to come at another angle that he would understand. “I’m not trying to pick a fight here, Sammy. I mean, I really want to understand. But we need to know more. I deserve to know more.”

Sam knew you were right. He let out another sigh, admitting defeat as he grabbed the bottle from your hands to take a drink before he got started. Sam told you both about his own path of self destruction he’d faced after burying you. Sam admitted about running off a week later, deciding to leave Bobby and hunting, the idea was buried in the back of his mind, but with the comfort of the bottle, he was drawn to the crossroads, where all of this trouble began. You listened to how he’d gotten drunk and tried selling his soul to a demon, promising him anything if it meant getting you and Dean back. But, of course, nothing worked. So he dragged himself back to the motel, drunk and full of grief, with not knowing there was someone else wanting to cash in on his offer. He told you about how he met Ruby again with some other demon, both of them took him off by surprise that ended with the magic knife to his throat.

Dean automatically opened his mouth to make a remark, Sam stopped him, saying how the story wasn’t finished. Ruby did save his life. She fooled everyone into thinking she was bad again, lied to Lilith and endured her punishment to get out of Hell faster. But Ruby didn’t let that last long after she arrived back out of Hell. She killed the demon with the knife and pulled herself back to being a fugitive just for Sam. That wasn’t good enough. He still didn’t trust her, and knowing she was riding some poor woman, he forced her out of the vessel and ordered the demon to find another body that wasn’t alive. A week passed and she showed up at the house he was squatting at with her current body—a comatosed Jane Doe who had passed away, with papers to prove her body had no consciousness of what was happening. She showed back up at his doorsteps, not with a way to get you or Dean back, but a way to get revenge on the demon who started this..

Ruby’s way out of this entire mess was something that you and Sam had in you this entire time–the demon blood. He was hesitant at first when she first offered up the deal, but after what happened, the man was ready to learn. He thought it was going to be quick and easy. But since he’d gotten comfortable with the bottle, she made him a compromise. She offered him revenge on the demon Lilith and everything she knew, only if he would give her patience and sobriety. You raised your brows when he stopped the story, you wanted to know more about how he learned.

“So?” You asked him from the bathroom doorway. You ditched your bloodied shirt that smelled faintly of booze after Sam pour some of it to clean off your wound. After going through Dean’s bag, you found a shirt decent enough to wear until you could find something better. You headed over to hear the rest of this story. “What did she teach you?”

"Well, the first thing I learned,” Sam trailed off for a moment, he let out a chuckle from what he was about to admit next. “I’m a crappy student.”

Learning how to exorcise demons out of a human’s body wasn’t easy as it looked. Sam admitted about struggling the first several times he did it. It caused a strain in his body he’d never had before. Migraines were frequent after pushing way past his body could handle. And his patience were running thinner and thinner when he wasn’t getting the progress he wanted. One attempt he had left the human dead after Ruby stabbed the demon after he started laughing at Sam, taunting the man for what he couldn’t do.

After that, Sam felt himself spiraling back down again when he wasn’t getting the progress he wanted. Ruby tried her hardest to comfort the man. She told him how she knew what it felt like to lose someone, that just because she was a demon, all of her emotions weren’t washed away. She told him that he wasn’t alone, and all though he tried pushing her away, he knew she was right, and things turned a bit differently. Your nose wrinkled up when he started to get a bit slower at explaining his moment with the demon. Sometimes it was better to keep some things brief. You didn’t care that he had sex with Ruby, you just didn’t want to hear about it.

“Sam?” Dean spoke up for the both of you, cutting off his little brother. “Too much information.”

“Hey, I told you two I was coming clean.” Sam said, you scoffed at his excuse.

“Yeah, but now I feel dirty.” Dean muttered. He leaned back in his seat at the table and pressed his glass of whisky to his forehead. “Okay, well, uh, brain-stabbing imagery aside—so far, all you’ve told us about is a manipulative bitch who, uh, screwed you, played mind games with you, and did everything in the book to get you to go bad.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam rolled his eyes. “there’s more to the story.”

“Just,” You couldn’t help yourself but say this. “Skip the nudity, please.”

Sam nodded his head, obviously knowing he might have gotten too far with the information you didn’t need to hear. You waited a moment for him to start the story again. “Pretty soon after…that, I put together some signs, omens.” He explained. You asked him what they said, curious to see what demon he had encountered. But the name that came up brought a surprise look in your expression from how quick she came back to the surface for some fun after you screwed up her vacation. “Lilith was in town. And I wanted to strike her first.”

If there was one thing the Winchester men knew best, it was revenge. Lilith popped back up to the surface a month after everything happened. You listened as Sam went on about how he thought after all the training he went through, he was ready. But Ruby tried stopping him after she said he wasn’t ready. Sam admitted that he didn’t care—about his failed attempts before, about how he might not be strong enough to handle the demon like Lilith. He wanted to go into this fight, only to come out dying. You could feel your expression soften from what he said. Sam knew he couldn’t go on for the rest of his life hunting alone, it was the only connection he had to you and Dean. And Ruby knew that. She fought her hardest to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen to the demon.

Sam went after Lilith with all the force he had left inside of him, thirsty for the revenge he’d been building up for weeks now. Like before, he found the demon hiding out in a quiet and upscale neighborhood, and with the demon blade close to his side, Sam went in for the sneak attack. He thought she would be possessing a little girl, it seemed to have been a personal favorite of hers, but when he noticed one sitting inside the house, she wasn’t possessed. And Lilith was long gone when he arrived. Sam was up against two demons that took him off by surprise, and while things seemed to have almost turned out like he hoped, Ruby saved his life again. At least, she tried. It was at that moment, of seeing the demon who tried her hardest to save his life, that triggered something deep inside of him. It reminded him of you and Dean, how much both of you sacrificed to let him live another day. He channeled all of those emotions and concentrated, allowing him to successfully exorcise the demon and save Ruby after she did so many times before.

“Ruby came back for me. Whatever you have to say, Dean, she saved me. More than that, she got through to me. What she said to me…it’s what you would’ve said.“ You looked up to see that Sam was staring at you, causing a small amount of color to spread across your cheeks. Ruby played the role of you and Dean. She told him things you would have, like any situation, you were always the voice of reason. And Dean looked out for his baby brother, trying to win fights and protect the man. She gave him a comforting feeling he hadn’t felt since the both of you passed. "If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here.”

Things were starting to make more sense. You didn’t know about Dean, but you could feel yourself beginning to trust Ruby more, and thankful for the demon. You didn’t know what you would do if you came back to life with Sam gone. Maybe this entire cycle would have started all over again. Before any of you could continue on with the warmhearted feeling, knocking on the motel door sent everyone’s body to stiffen. “Housekeeping.” A female voice called out.

“Not now!” Dean shouted at her. She seemed persistent, offering up clean towels. You furrowed your brow as Dean rolled his eyes, knowing she wasn’t going to leave without a face to face. He pushed himself off the chair and walked over to the door, out of frustration, he opened it up to shoo her away. “Couldn’t you just leave 'em at the door?”

The housekeeper scoffed. She shoved him the folded towels in his hands with a clean shirt on top. You didn’t know what was going on as she headed for the window to shut the curtains before heading over to Sam, she gave him a crinkled up pieces of paper. “I’m at this address.” She said. Sam gave her a funny look, asking her what was going on. She rolled her eyes and pointed a finger at you. “Get yourself dressed and leave. Go through the bathroom window, don’t stop, don’t take your car, don’t pass go. There are demons in the hallway and in the parking lot.”

“Wait,” Sam realized who she was. “Ruby?”

“Okay, yes, so I’m possessing this maid for a hot minute. Sue me.” Ruby said, rolling her eyes once more. Sam was about to ask about her other body, she cut him off for the answer. “Coma girl? Slowly rotting on the floor back at the cabin with Anna, so I’ve got to head back. See you when you get there. Now, go!”

Ruby didn’t need to say anything else. You watched as she headed for the door, passing a very confused Dean from what happened. Pushing yourself up from the bed, you took her first instructions, you began taking off the shirt, knowing there wasn’t much time to be discrete. You scoffed at Sam’s face when he turned away, and knowing Dean, his brother wouldn’t appreciate the sight. “What?” You asked the young man with an annoyed tone. You dropped the shirt to the ground and grabbed the clean one. “You told me about how you and Ruby had sex. Now we’re even.”

\+ + +

You and the boys managed to arrive at the cabin an hour later without tipping off any demons. It took a stolen car to get here, but you made it safely. You knocked on the door and waited a moment before Ruby answered, back again in her body. You gave her a small smile when you stepped inside first before your attention was drawn over to Anna, who was sitting on a beat up looking couch right across from the doorway. From her appearance she seemed fine. But you left her in a compromise that left her not too willing to come along.

“Anna,” You asked her the obvious question. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think so. You were right, Y/N. Ruby’s not like the other demons.“ Anna said. She looked over at the woman, a smile spread across her lips. "She saved my life.”

“Yeah, I hear she does that sometimes.” Dean said, a small smile spreading across his lips. He shifted around in his spot as he glanced over at the demon. She looked at him with a skeptical face for a moment before Dean opened his mouth. “I guess I…you know.”

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest, “What?”

“I guess I owe you for…Sam. And I just wanted to,” Dean was struggling here as he cleared his throat. Ruby looked at him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “You know?”

“Don’t strain yourself.” Ruby said.

“Okay then, the moment over?” Dean asked. Ruby answered him with another eyeroll, seeming to only think it was the right response to show him how she felt about this conversation. You and Sam silently watched the sight unfold with a snicker at how Dean wrapped up this conversation between him and the demon. “Good. ‘Cause that was awkward.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Your attention was drawn away from the conversation when you heard Anna speak. You looked down at her, curious to see what she needed. But what she asked for made your face drop in hesitation. “You think it’d be safe to make a quick call, just to tell my parents I’m okay? They must be completely freaked.”

You let out the faintest sigh as your expression quickly changed, you tried your hardest to get the words out, but they were short and hesitant. Anna looked around at the four of you, she knew something was wrong, but she didn’t want to admit the truth. You took a step and sat down next to her, trying one more time to get this out. “Anna, your parents…” You trailed off for a moment, she questioned you. You gave her a sympathetic look as you apologized. “Look, I’m sorry.”

"No, they’re not…” Anna’s eyes welled up with tears when she realized what you were trying to say. You apologized again, triggering a sob from the woman. She shook her head as she bent down, her hands resting against her head. “Why is this happening to me?!” You comforted her by placing your hand on her back, all though you didn’t know the answer, you knew how it felt to lose your parents to this sort of situation. She quietly sobbed for a few more moments before her mood suddenly shifted into panic. She quickly sat straight up in her seat and looked around, like she was listening to the voices inside her head. What she said next didn’t leave a pleasent feeling inside your stomach. “They’re coming.”

If that wasn’t enough of a proper warning, your eyes shot up to the ceiling when the electricity began to rapidly flicker, giving you a sign trouble was brewing close by. You ushered Anna out of her seat when Dean noticed a back room, perfect for her to hide out. You could see from the panicked look on her face that she didn’t want to be alone. So, you and her went into the room, leaving Ruby and the brothers to fend off whatever demons that were about to come your way. You locked the shabby wooden door and stepped back, you let out a nervous breath from what was happening. And from the rising voices coming from outside, Ruby found out how you lost the demon knife, Dean just had to throw you under the bus. Your lips stretched into a faint frown. But the conversation came to a halt where there was a knock coming from the back door.

You looked over your shoulder to see Anna was curled up on the bed, she was trying her hardest to be calm about this situation. You gave her a reassuring smile before you looked back at the door, just a second later, there was a loud banging sound that caught the both of you off guard. You waited a second before you took a giant step forward and pressed your ear against the door to see what was going on. It was a second of silence before you heard a familiar voice, you realized it wasn’t demons that were outside the doorway, it was Uriel and Castiel. But they weren’t here to help. You leaned closer to the doorway when you heard Castiel speak up. You thought after the conversation you had with changed your perspective of the angel. Everyone talked around for a moment, wondering why they wanted her so badly. It was Sam who asked the question that was burning in your mind.

“Are you going to help her?”

“No.” It was Castiel who answered. “She has to die.”


	10. Heaven and Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly written NSFW content ahead.

You pressed your ear harder against the flimsy wooden door, trying your hardest to figure out what was going on outside, but your heartbeat that was pounding inside your ears was blocking out most of the voices. Pressure like this, when you’d backed yourself into a corner with little to no possibilities of getting out, was a nightmare. You’d had a woman with a target painted on her back who was wanted by both sides of the spectrum. Demons wanted her alive and angels wanted her dead. You knew the two hunters and demon that stood outside weren’t going to be enough to keep Anna safe. You stepped back away from the door and began examining every single inch of the small room. There was a window behind Anna that would be big enough for her to sneak through. It didn’t mean Uriel would find out. He’d probably let the both of you get halfway through the woods before he popped up and killed the two of you. You kept your back to Anna as you sank your front teeth into your bottom lip. She didn’t need to see your panicked expression for now. The idea would hit you, just give it a few seconds. But it was the crashing sound coming from outside of the cabin that sent a bad feeling to sit in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay, Anna,” You mumbled the young woman’s name as you turned around, closing your eyes for a brief moment from what you were about to say. It was a dumb plan, but the only one you’d gotten going right now. You opened your mouth and eyes to explain your ideas, but you could feel a small breath of surprise coming out from what trouble Anna gotten herself in. She’d found a piece of broken glass on the floor just sharp enough to cut open her skin and blood to start coming toward the surface. She leaned forward with her wounded arm against the vanity countertop and worked with her index finger, using her blood as ink, you watched as she began drawing a circle on the mirror, along with several more symbols you’d never seen before. It took a moment before you snapped back into reality. “What the hell are you doing?”

Anna painted one more symbol before you stepped forward and grabbed a hold of her wrist. She was bleeding everywhere, and considering how her skin was becoming even paler, you knew this wasn’t a good idea. You shrugged off your jacket and grabbed the sleeve of it, you ushered her into the chair and ordered for her wounded arm that was still bleeding. You quickly wrapped the sleeve around her wrist and made a tight knot. It’d have to do for a makeshift bandage for now until you found something better to stop her bleeding. You were about to let out a small breath of frustration from the trouble she’d gotten herself into, but it was the sound of the door swinging open that sent you looking look over your shoulder. You thought for a moment it was going to be Castiel standing in the doorway with almost a solemn expression. Instead it was Dean, staring at the both of you with a panicked expression at seeing all of the blood all over the wooden dresser. His attention was taken over by the mirror when he saw the foreign symbols drawn in her blood.

“Are they gone?” Anna, voice weak from blood loss, made herself ask a very peculiar question.

You furrowed your brow in confusion as you peered out the doorway, not sure what you were expecting to see. All though the only familiar faces you recognized were Sam and Ruby’s after she helped him up from the floor after their fight. “Did you kill them?” Dean asked, knowing what’d he saw was strange enough that couldn’t be explained from what happened.

“No. I sent them away…” Anna answered. “Far away.”

You peered back to the mirror to see the blood was starting to drip down, all though all of your focus was on the symbols, wondering what was going on here. Your eyes wandered over to Dean’s reflection for a moment, both of you were sharing the same expressions of complete and utter strange fascination. You let out a breath as you looked away from him when you heard footsteps approaching the doorway, Ruby and Sam walked forward to see what was going on, yet a second later, their attention was drawn to what the woman. “Anna,” You turned your head away from the mirror and looked at her right in the eye. “How did you do that?”

“That just popped in my head.” She admitted to you. Her facial expressions changed as her voice shifted quieter. It wasn’t hard to see Anna was becoming frightened from what she did. “I don’t know how I did it.”

Anna Milton was becoming more stranger from each passing moment you were around her. You stepped back after Ruby offered to help fix up the wound on Anna before an infection could settle in. The woman moved over to the bed so you could help undo the makeshift bandage around her wrist, you mumbled apologies when she began wincing from the pain. Ruby came back a moment later with the supplies, you gave her a small smile of gratitude from what she was doing as you pushed yourself off the bed and headed for the doorway. You stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind you, giving everyone a moment of privacy. Crunching up the jacket in your hands, you suddenly regretted using this and staining the fabric with blood. There’d be no way you could wash it out, you’d probably have to throw it away. That wasn’t the problem you were facing right now. Autumn weather at night was always cold. You knew wearing just a t-shirt didn’t help as you crossed your arms over your chest. You walked forward to the boys to see what they had to say about this entire situation after they told you what the angels had said about Anna.

“So, what do you think?” You asked them.

“I think Anna’s getting more interesting by the second.” Sam admitted.

Dean nodded his head, agreeing with his brother about that statement. He looked over at the door for a moment before looking back over at the both of you. “And what did they mean by ‘she’s not innocent’?”

“It seems like they want her bad, and not just of the angel radio thing.” Sam said. You wrapped your arms tighter around your body from what was going on here. There were questions starting to pile up fasters from answers. “I mean, that blood spell—some serious crap.”

“Something’s going on with her. See what you can find out.” Dean instructed to his little brother for the next part of the plan. You looked at him, wondering what the rest of you were going to do for now. “Anna may have sent the Angels to the outfield, but, sooner or later, they’re gonna be back. We got to get ourselves safe now.”

You heard Sam let out the faintest sigh, obviously knowing what the three of you were about to embark on wasn’t going to be easy, or safe. You gave him a stern warning to be cautious out there before he made his departure out, taking the car Ruby used to get her and Anna here. When you watched him head out of the cabin, you wrapped your arms even tighter around your body, your mind settling with endless worries about what could happen. Angels might have been banished for however much time, it still meant demons were out on the loose. And thanks to you, the knife was gone. You stared off into the distance for a moment, getting yourself lost in thought, but it was feeling of something warm and heavy being draped over your shoulders that sent you back into reality. You glanced down to see Dean’s dark navy blue jacket, large and toasty from his body heat, was now wrapped around your small body to keep warm.

“You didn’t have to.” You mumbled. Dean shrugged his shoulders as he stepped forward to you, he grabbed the jacket once more and wrapped it tighter around your body. He now stood over you, knowing that the both of you were alone in a moment of silence, away from the chaos and danger, he felt safe enough. Your lips stretched into the faintest smile again when he leaned down and press his lips against your for just a moment. Your eyes fluttered shut and you sank yourself into the moment either of you hadn’t shared in a little while. Between dealing with the aftermath of Hell and seeing Alistair again, there hadn’t been a moment where you felt completely safe. Not until now. Both of you pulled away after a moment. You let out a sigh and opened your eyes. As you looked away from Dean, your attention wandered over to the bedroom door where you saw Anna standing there, Ruby peeked her head out to see what was going on. You could feel a heat spreading across your cheeks when you realized what they saw. Anna’s mouth parted open, she tried apologizing as Ruby cocked up an eyebrow with a faint smirk spreading across her lips.

\+ + +

It took almost all night until everyone had gotten to Bobby’s safe and sound. You were hopeful he wouldn’t be too upset dropping by unannounced with a demon and a fugitive wanted by angels, but to your surprise, he was off the grid for what you were presuming was a needed vacation, or a very amazing hunting trip you were upset not to be apart of. Dean headed down to the basement with Anna where she would stay for now in the time being, at least keeping demons off her tail. Ruby followed down when she noticed you were about to make another call. But before you could take out your phone, she tossed you a hex bag, an extra crunchy and powerful one, so demons or angels could figure out where you all were. You mumbled a thank you from what she was doing for all of you. She looked at you for a moment, like she was going to say something, the thought seemed to have disappeared. Ruby headed down to the basement so she could hand Dean and Anna their own bags.

When you were alone, you decided to give Sam a call, wondering how progress for him was coming along. As you put a hand into your pocket to pull out your phone, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the front door open and close behind you. You turned around to see Sam himself, the smallest smile of amusement spreading across his lips from how you reacted. You rolled your eyes and shoved your phone back into your pocket. “I was just about to call you. Get anything?” You asked him. Sam walked forward and into the living room, he waved around the case file he’d brought back of Anna. You headed to the basement door to call the older man upstairs for a private conversation. “Hey, Dean!”

You heard his heavy footsteps approaching against the wooden steps before he came up from the basement. He peeked out the window to the front yard, a smile spreading across his lips when he noticed Baby sitting there again in all of her glory. “How’s the car?” Dean asked his brother.

“She’s fine. I got her.” Sam mumbled. He looked around the room for a moment when he noticed there was something off here. The older hunter he’d suspected to be around, nose buried in a book, was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Bobby?”

“The Dominican.” You answered. “He said if you guys break anything, you buy it.”

“He’s working a job?” Sam asked, curious to see why the man was out of the states.

“God, I hope so.” Dean admitted with a quiet voice, you let out a small chuckle from what he’d said next after an image popped into your head. "Otherwise, he’s at Hedonism in a banana hammock and a trucker cap.”

“Now that’s seared in my brain.” Sam muttered.

You whacked both of them on the arms and managed to get them to focus again. You nodded your head at the case file Sam was still holding, where some answers about the woman you had hiding downstairs. “What did you find on Anna?” You asked the younger man. “Anything useful?”

“Her parents were Rich and Amy Milton—a church deacon and a housewife.“ Sam explained the basic information you knew already. He opened up the file and placed it down on the table for you and Dean to examine. You looked over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming, when the coast was clear, you peered back down at the hospital records as Sam continued on. "But there is something here in the report. Turns out this latest psych episode wasn’t her first. When she was two and a half, she’d get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn’t her real daddy.”

“Who was? The plumber, hmm?” Dean cracked a small joke, the ends of his lips stretching into a smirk. But neither you or his brother tried masking the awkwardness that followed after from the reference he was making to. “A little snaking in the pipes?”

“Dude, you’re confusing reality with porn again.” Sam called his brother out, causing the older man to fall silent. You bit your bottom lip to keep a smile from spreading across your lips from the expression that fell on Dean’s face. You looked back down at the file when Sam tried to finish what was he was explaining earlier. “Look, Anna didn’t say. She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad. Very mad—like wanted-to-kill-her mad.”

You placed your hands on your hips and tried to make sense of what you heard. For a toddler, there was no exact reason why one would act like that. “That’s kind of heavy for a two year old.” You noted, seeming to find this off putting.

“Well,” Sam let out a breath before explained the rest of the information. “She saw a kid’s shrink, got better, and grew up normal.”

“Until now.” Dean said. “So, what’s she hiding?”

“Why don’t you just ask me to my face?”

You looked up when you heard a familiar voice, and by the tone, she was pissed. You saw Anna standing in the doorway with her arms tightly wrapped around her chest. She stared at the three of you with an expression full of anger when she realized you had done a small background check on her without even asking your own set of questions. You dropped your hands to your side as you looked over at Ruby, who was leaning against the wall, quietly standing around. “Nice job watching her.” Dean grumbled at the demon.

“What?” Ruby gestured an arm at the woman she was standing next to. “I’m watching her.”

“No, you’re right, Anna. Is there anything you want to tell us?” Sam asked the woman. Anna questioned him back, wondering what it he wanted to know. “The angels said you were guilty of something. Why would they say that?”

“You tell me. Tell me why my life has been leveled…why my parents are dead.” Anna snapped at the young man. You could see her eyes starting to well up with tears from what she finally said. It took a moment before she could speak again, this time, in a quieter tone. “I don’t know. I swear. I would give anything to know.”

Sam listened to the confession before he nodded his head. "Okay. Let’s find out.”

You looked at him a bit funny, “How?”

\+ + +

Sam suggested a woman you hadn’t seen since coming back from Hell, and left her blinded. Pamela was only a few hours away, and with a quick phone call, you were surprised to see that she was rather excited and eager to participate in the challenge you had for her. Dean left in the morning to head down and pick her up. All of you waited around for the meantime, trying to kill some time of waiting by wandering down the basement and poking around at what Bobby kept hidden away. Mostly it was the same amount of weapons you seen a thousand times before and books of monsters you either killed or have only heard from previous hunting stories told from others. You were leaning against the wall with your nose buried in a book, skimming through information, it was the sound of Dean’s voice that sent your head upward. He was walking down the basement steps first as he guided the psychic when you arrived to see them. She seemed to have been doing better since the accident. She was wearing sunglasses for an added bonus from what happened, and nothing short of a smile when she heard your voice to greet her first.

“Pamela. Hey.” Sam headed forward to the woman and rested his hands on her shoulders for a moment, letting her know he was standing next to her. She whispered out his name a few times in confusion from what was happening from the foreign touch. “It’s me. It’s Sam.”

The woman’s hands wandered upward to Sam’s face, as if she was trying to remember what he looked like. But that wasn’t the case. “Know how I can tell?” Pamela asked. She answered with a slapping noise echoing through the basement. You could feel a snicker come out when you realized she’d shamelessly slapped the young man’s behind. “That perky little ass of yours. You could bounce a nickel off that thing. Of course I know it’s you, Grumpy. Same way I know Y/N’s standing right next to you and there’s a demon lurking around. And,” Pamela nodded her head at the other woman right across the room. “That poor girl’s Anna. And that you’ve been eyeing my rack, Grumpy.” 

Sam began stammering out some excuse from what he was caught doing. You and Dean began to share the same amused expression as Pamela brushed it off with a laugh. “Don’t sweat it, kiddo. I still got more senses than most.” Sam nodded his head and mumbled a few words, a small smile tugging at the ends of his lips. You nudged him with your shoulder from what happened as you followed behind Pamela as she went off to greet Anna. She stepped forward to the young woman and took a hold of her hands. "Hey, Anna. How are you? I’m Pamela. Y/N and the boys told me what’s been going on. I’m excited to help.”

“Oh.” Anna mumbled with a smile. “That’s very nice of you.”

“Oh, well, not really. Any chance I can dick over an angel, I’m taking it. They stole something from me.” Pamela said, answering Anna’s question of why. She reached up a hand to take off her sunglasses, only to show off her once empty sockets with eyes that were just white. Anna stiffened from in discomfort what she saw. Pamela’s lips stretched into a reassuring smile. “Demon-y, I know. But they’re just plastic. Good for business. Makes me look extra-psychic, don’t you think?” You had to admit, at first glance it was sort of strange looking, but after taking a moment to reevaluate the situation, you could feel a small chuckle escape from her perspective. Pamela put her glasses back on and stepped forward, urging you and Anna forward to the room. “Now, how about you tell me what your deal is? Don’t you worry.”

Pamela explained what she was going to do as Anna laid down on the makeshift bed and clicked her eyes, trying to relax herself the best she could. Ruby was forced to stand outside and see all of this happen as you and the brothers lingered around, wondering what was going to happen. You pulled up a chair for Pamela before settling down on a leather seat for yourself, watching this entire scene unfold, and wondering what was going to come out.

“Now, I’m going to count down from five to zero. When we’re at zero, you’ll be in a deep state of hypnosis. As I count down, just go deeper and deeper, okay 5…“ Pamela began counting down until she was at zero. She reached up a hand to move down Anna’s face. "Deep sleep. Deep sleep. Every muscle is calm and relaxed. Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you.” Anna repeated after the woman in a calm and quiet tone.

“Now, Anna, tell me, how can you hear the angels? How did you work that spell?” Pamela asked two questions that had been burning on everyone’s mind. You waited a moment for Anna to answer, but what you heard was anticlimactic, saying something about not knowing. It just came to her, like what she said before when you asked. So, Pamela tried something simpler to warm up with. “Your father, what’s his name?”

“Rich Milton.” Anna answered.

“All right. But I want you to look further back, when you were very young, just a couple of years old.” Pamela tried to get the young woman’s subconscious to say something else, but it seemed Anna was hesitant, mumbling about not wanting to. You leaned forward in your seat to see her wrist started slowly twitching around in hesitation. “It’ll be alright. Anna, just one look—that’s all we need.”

“No.” Anna mumbled, her head started to move around. “I don’t want to.”

“What’s your dad’s name? Your real dad.” Pamela pressed forward, knowing what was happening was completely normal, her conscious wanted to keep everything a secret, but the woman wasn’t about to give up. “Why is he angry at you?”

But things didn’t go according to plan. The situation turned from bad to worse in just a second flat. Anna began muttering out no as she started thrashing around in bed, as if she was trying to get away from whatever Pamela was reaching for. "No!” Anna screamed out for the fifth time. She jumped up from the bed for with her eyes still close before she went back down. “He’s gonna kill me!”

Pamela tried calming down the woman with words and a soothing tone. But nothing was helping as Anna kept screaming and shouting that he was going to kill her. The light fixtures above you began to rapidly flicker on and off before the bulbs exploded and the iron door slammed shut, all of you winced from the chaos that was erupting. Dean thought things had gone off far enough, and as he tried to walk forward to Anna and shake her out of the trance, you tried yelling at him to stop. But he was too late. Dean reached out an arm and pressed it against her shoulder, Anna related as she roughly swung back her arm, making him go flying across the room and landing directly on a wooden chair. You bent down to see if he was all right as Pamela got ahold of the situation, counting up to five to snap the woman back into reality. A second later, she stopped screaming as her eyes slowly flickered open, acting like nothing happened.

“Anna,” Pamela spoke out the woman’s name in a quiet tone. “Anna. You all right?”

The woman sat up in her spot on the bed, you watched as she blinked for a moment as she looked around at everyone at the room before speaking for herself. “Thank you, Pamela. That helped a lot. I remember now.” Anna’s idea for an answer left all of you confused. You shifted away your gaze from her as you looked at Dean for a moment. It was Sam who asked her what it was. “Who I am.”

“I’ll bite.” Dean said, eager to know himself of a truthful answer from the woman since meeting her. “Who are you?”

“I’m an angel.” Anna answered.

\+ + +

The only angels you’d met, the count now up to three, weren’t the friendly and holy creatures that has been stereotyped over the years. They were cruel, despised all of humanity just about hated everything that looked off. Ruby didn’t want anything to do with the woman as Pamela seemed rather quiet from who she was dealing with again. Angels were the reason why she had lost her sight, and knowing there was one right across from her wasn’t bringing back the bubbly and sarcastic attitude. All of you decided to relocate to the library to hear Anna’s side of the story. She said she was different from the rest of her kind, Ruby didn’t buy it. You gave a look to the demon to shut her her up at least one minute, Anna could feel the tension rising in the room between everyone. She shoved her hands into her back pockets of her jeans and began to slowly pace around the floor.

“So, Castiel, Uriel—they’re the ones that came for me?” Anna asked, trying to make small conversation. You crossed your arms over your chest, asking how she knew them in the first place. “We were kind of in the same foxhole.”

“What, they’re like your bosses or something?”

“Try the other way around.”

Dean seemed rather surprised to see a figure like Anna in charge, he raised his brows as a smirk spread across his lips. “Look at you.”

“But now they want to kill you?” Pamela asked her.

“Orders are orders. I’m sure I have a death sentence on my head.” Anna mumbled. She began to pace around again as she crossed her arms over her chest. You asked her why, why such extreme measures. “I disobeyed. Which, for us, is about the worst thing you can do. I fell.”

“Meaning?”

“She fell to earth, became human.”

“Wait a minute. I don’t understand.” Sam spoke up. “So, angels can just become human?”

“It kind of hurts. Try cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. That kind of hurt. I ripped out my grace.” Anna explained what she did to become human. You looked at her a bit funny, suddenly becoming lost at what she was trying to say. “My grace. It’s…energy. Hacked it out and fell. My mother, Amy, couldn’t get pregnant. Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was.”

“So, wait,” Dean stopped the angel for a moment to recollect on this new information. “you just forgot you were God’s little power ranger?”

Anna stopped pacing from his question, “The older I got, the longer I was human, yeah.”

“I don’t think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are.” Ruby spoke up, dragging the attention the room over to her. Anna nodded her head, she mentioned the obvious facts of Heaven wanting her dead, the demon only sweetened the deal. “And Hell just wants her. A flesh-and-blood angel that you can question, torture, that bleeds. Sister, you’re the stanley cup. And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they’re gonna find you.”

"I know. And that’s why I’m gonna get it back.” Anna said. “My grace. If I can find it.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna take some divine bong hit, and shazam, you’re Roma Downey?” Dean asked her. Anna shrugged her shoulders, saying how it would be something like that. “All right. I like this plan. So, where’s this grace of yours?”

“Lost track.” She admitted. “I was falling about ten thousand miles per hour at the time.”

“Wait. You mean falling, like, literally?” You asked the angel, she nodded head. You could feel an idea beginning to form in your head from her answer. “Like the way a human eye can see? Like a comet maybe or a meteor?”

“Why do you ask?” Anna asked.

“I think I have an idea.” You mumbled to her. Pushing yourself up from the couch, you headed forward to one of the many bookshelves that were stockpiled with all sorts of hardcovers. Bobby had books practically on every subject, as your eyes darted around the titles until you found something to start with. You had a feeling there was a few about astronomy hidden somewhere.

\+ + +

You stretched your arms over your head as a yawn falling from your lips at the amount of research you’d gotten done in under three hours. With the help from Sam, you were able to start tracking down a possible lead of where Anna’s grace could have been. You spent most of the afternoon with your eyes glued to the screen of your laptop and your nose stuck in a book. You’d managed to tear away your attention for one moment when Pamela announced she was leaving. All of this was beginning to go out of her comfort zone when she realized Anna wasn’t just another poor human. Ruby stuck around, thinking it would be safe enough from the trouble that was brewing out the outskirts. She stood her distance from the angel and helped with research, and by helping, she lingered over your shoulder and commented on things about your work ethic. Dean was the one who volunteered to drive Pamela back home, he’d be back in less than an hour. Yet you stood near a window and checked your phone every five minutes. When you caught yourself becoming worried over nothing, you decided for a change of scenery to help clear your head.

You slipped outside to see that night was in full swing; the graveyard of cars seemed rather ominous tonight from the porch steps. You tugged your jacket tighter around your body as you began walking aimlessly around the grounds. From the amount of times you’d spent at Bobby’s, you were beginning to become familiar with the grounds. A lot happened here over the past few years since you began the journey of hunting. It was funny to think that Bobby was once a stranger to you. He was a hunter you who seemed a little rough around the edges, but you learned he wasn’t so bad. His home was the place where you and the boys stayed after John passed away and the countless amounts of other times you’d stopped by to ask for help when all of you gotten in trouble. You looked over your shoulder to stare at the porch steps. It was the exact same place where you had broken down and admitted everything to Bobby just a week before the demon deal was about to expire. You were disappointed that Bobby was out of the state, all though he deserved time away from hunting, you and the brothers needed him more than ever.

You’d wandered through the grounds for another minute or so until you stopped Anna right across the way. She was leaning against a car with her back turned to you and her head tilted upward. Your eyes were drawn up to see what she was looking at. A small breath fell out from you when you saw the night sky, clear with no clouds in sights, you could see the billions of stars hanging above. “Amazing, isn’t it?” You called out to her, breaking the angel’s attention away. You walked forward to her, a friendly smile spread across your lips when she peered over her shoulder to see who it was. She gave you a small smile back as she watched you head forward to her and leaned against the car. There was a long pause of silence between the both of you, the insects and a soft howl of the wind filled in the gaps for a moment or two. You shoved your hands inside your pockets as you let out a breath.

“Anna, can I ask you a question?” She looked at you again as she nodded her head, all though she seemed hesitant, you pushed yourself to ask her. “Do you know anything about the seals? Or what the angels want Dean for?”

Anna fell silent for a moment from your question. She could see you were curious, and a dash of desperate, for answers from the look in your eye. She crossed her arms tighter around her body as she shook her head. “I’m sorry.” She apologized to you. “The angels aren’t talking about it. And it was after I fell.”

“That’s another question.” You said, finding yourself becoming intrigued for more information from the angel. “Why would you fall? Why would you want to be one of us?”

Anna peered away from you at your questions that were starting to become personal. You stared at her with confusion when she glanced down at the ground, like you’d offended her from what you said. “I know your life hasn’t been easy, Y/N.” She dropped her voice in a whispered hush. “But you don’t mean that.”

“I don’t? Honestly, in the words of someone know, he’d probably say we’re a bunch of miserable bastards. We’re a bunch of humans put on this earth to survive—making sure to eat the right food, taking care of yourself. And don’t get me started on emotions. Constantly feeling confused and afraid all the time. That’s even when I was still a teenager. Everything’s worse when you’re in this sort of lifestyle” You said, not sure what you were proving to her. “Being a human is exhausting.”

“I don’t know. There’s loyalty, forgiveness.” Anna listed off a few emotions. “Love.”

“Pain.”

“Chocolate cake.”

“Guilt.”

“Sex.” Anna continued on playing the game with you, but her last suggestion sent the both of you silent, a small childish sort of smile spread across your lips from the thought. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing she’d gotten you beat there. You knew a dozen other emotions that you could say from the top of your head to continue on. But Anna’s mind was set. She wanted to continue with this freedom. “I mean it. Every emotion, Y/N, even the bad ones…it’s why I fell. It’s why—why I’d give anything not to have to go back. Anything.”

“Feelings are overrated, if you ask me.” You admitted. “Gotten me into a lot of trouble.”

“Beats being an angel.” Anna muttered underneath her breath.

“How’s that possible?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask her. “You guys are powerful and perfect. You don’t doubt yourselves or God or anything.”

“Perfect, like a marble statue. Cold, no choice, obedience. Y/N, do you know how many angels have actually seen God? Seen his face?” Anna asked you, catching you off guard from her question. You shrugged your shoulders, mumbling your answer of being all of them, uncertainty in your voice. “Four angels. Four. And I’m not one of them.”

“That’s it?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, she nodded her head. “Well, if you don’t mind me saying this, but, how do you know that there’s a God?”

“We have to take it on faith, which we are killed if we don’t have.” Anna explained to you, the tone of her voice was growing harder from the honest truth she could finally admit without getting into trouble. You thought back to the conversation you’d had with Castiel. He almost said the same thing, about having questions, doing things that were frowned upon. “I was stationed on earth for two thousand years, just, watching. Silent, invisible. Out on the road, sick for home, waiting on orders from an unknowable father I can’t begin to understand. So don’t tell me that—” You had cut off Anna accidentally from what you were hearing by laughing. She glared at you from what you were doing. “What is so funny? What?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry. It’s just,” You began speaking again after you swallowed down another laugh. You composed yourself and looked at her right in the eye from what you were about to say. “I understand. About taking orders without question and absent fathers. A little too well.”

Anna stared at you for a moment, beginning to wonder what’d you meant by that, but before she could ask, the familiar rumbling sound of the engine made you look over your shoulder. You brought a hand up to your face when you saw Dean pulling forward, a small smile tugged at the ends of your lips when you saw him cut the engine to the Impala and get out. He slammed the driver’s side door shut and glanced at Anna for a second before settling his attention on you when you spoke up. “Pamela get home okay?” You asked him, Dean nodded his head.

“Yeah. She said she was sorry.” Dean said. You glanced over at Anna, knowing what he was saying had been addressed to her. “It’s just after the last time, she, uh, this is just a little too rich for her blood.”

“I don’t blame her.” Anna mumbled. “You guys should do the same.”

You let out a quiet sigh from her advice, as you opened your mouth to make a remark, it was Sam’s shadowy figure in the distance coming from the house that caught your attention. “I might not be very smart when it comes to common sense. But I have a feeling we’ve got a lead.” You admitted as you looked at Dean before settling your gaze on Anna. “Another human emotion that sucks is curiosity. Keeps pushing me until I find what I want.”

\+ + +

You leaned against the table with your palms pressed against the wood, your eyes trailed over the map Sam laid out with a series of newspaper articles with familiar titles about a miracle tree. It seemed Sam used your tracking information and theory of meteors and put them to good use while you were speaking to Anna. “Union, Kentucky.” Sam pointed at a spot on the map he’d circled. “Found some accounts of a local miracle. In ‘85, there was an empty field outside of town. Six months later, there was a full-grown oak. They say it looks a century old at least.”

“Anna,” You looked over at the woman standing next to you. “What do you think?”

“The grace.” She said, seeming to believe this might have been the right track of where she could find it. “Where it hit, it could have done something like that, easy.“

“So grace ground zero—it’s not destruction.” Dean said. “It’s…”

"Pure creation.” Anna finished his thought.

You reached out a hand to push forward one of the newspaper articles Sam printed out to take notice of the tree. Even though the image was small and grainy, you had to admit, something about it was breathtaking. Who knew when an angel decided to abandon her own kind something interesting would come out of it. You glance upward to see that everyone was glancing at one another, wondering if this was the right lead, but part of you was already sold on this.

\+ + +

Riding in the backseat with one person beside you was bad enough. You’d grown used to the luxury of having all of the room to yourself, where you could stretch out your body and relax for the long drive you had ahead for the five you. Instead you were sitting in the middle with your arms crossed over your chest, muttering apologies after you accidentally bumped Ruby in the side or kicked Anna if you tried moving around your legs for comfort. Your muscles were growing stiff from sitting so close to each other. Dean glanced away from the road for a moment to stare at the three of you, when he noticed the sight, he couldn’t help himself but let out the faintest chuckle. It caused you to break away your concentration away from the front seats and look at him directly in the rear view mirror. Your eyebrows scrunched together when you caught his smirk.

“What?” You asked him in a rather annoyed tone.

“Nothing. It’s just an angel, human and a demon riding in the backseat. It’s like the setup to a bad joke…“ Dean started speaking, yet trailed off for just a second. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he was going to say before the words even came out of his mouth. "Or a Penthouse Forum letter.”

“Dude. Reality…” Sam whispered to his brother. “Porn.”

Dean scoffed at the warning, “You call this reality?”

You shook your head from his remark, it wasn’t something you’d expect anything less from him. All though, you had to admit this entire situation was a new one for you. If someone were to tell you a few months ago you’d be riding backseat with an angel and a demon, you’d probably laugh. But here you were, muttering yet another apology to Ruby after you accidentally bumped your elbow into her ribcage. On the ride back you were sitting in the front seat, at least this way when Dean makes a remark, you won’t have to apologize for bumping into him.

\+ + +

All of you arrived in Kentucky just after sunrise, deep in the fields and away from town, it was the perfect privacy to find out if this was the spot you were looking for. Anna was the first one out of the car after Dean turned off the engine, out of anyone, she was the most eager. You stepped into the dampened grass and slammed the backseat door behind you before starting forward again. You looked to see the tree was still in bloom, despite the colder weather, leaves stuck to the branches and moved softly in the breeze of the wind, even how the sun was angled, it almost looked like it was glowing. You had to admit that what you imagined didn’t touch what you saw, it was beautiful beyond words.

“It’s where the grace touched down.” Anna said. “I can feel it.”

You looked over at the brothers, knowing this was where it was about to end if you were right about this. Anna would get her grace back, go back to being an angel, something she admitted to you about despising. “You ready to do this?” You asked the woman standing with her back to you.

“Not really.” Anna admitted with a quiet tone.

Anna knew didn’t have a choice in the matter, anymore. You weren’t sure what was going to happen when she got her grace back, if she was going to come back as an angel and pretend to be something she hated. She began walking forward, the four of you following behind, watching the angel’s every move. “Anna,” Sam called out to her. “What are we even looking for?”

Sam didn’t get his answer, the ange’s focus was preoccupied with something else. She stood in front of the oak tree, observing and feeling the energy that washed off, giving her a small sense of hope this was the right thing to do. Anna sucked in a breath before she reached out a hand and pressed it against the rough bark. The entire forest fell silent for just a moment. You weren’t sure what to expect, but her response wasn’t it. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not here. Not anymore.” Anna said. She looked over her shoulder and at the four of you. “Someone took it.”

\+ + +

You thought things couldn’t have gotten any worse, but somehow, like always, they did. Everyone found refuge in a barn not far from where the tree had been planted. Anna had warned off by herself after saying something about needing some time to think. Night had fallen not too long ago and everyone was start to succumb to the stress and demands of this disaster. You’d been sitting in the quieter side of the barn thinking to yourself, but most of your attention was drawn to Anna. She quietly sat on top of a table for the past ten minutes, her head cocked to the side and eyes staring at something in the distance. She didn’t seem to be aware of her surroundings, not even the conversation that was going on as Dean and Ruby headed into the room.

“Well, we still got the hex bags.” Dean said. “I say we head back to the panic room.”

“What, forever?” Ruby questioned the hunter.

“I’m just thinking out loud!”

“Oh, you call that thinking?”

“Hey!” You snapped at both of them, dragging their petty fight to a halt. “Stop it.”

Sam emerged back into the room, a heavy look settled in his expressions when you looked over at him. Both of you were starting to grow nervous from what was going on. And it wasn’t helping that Ruby decided to rub the facts in your face. “Anna’s grace is gone. You understand? She can’t angel up. She can’t protect us. We can’t fight heaven and hell.” She said. “One side maybe, but not both. Not at once.”

“Um, guys? The angels are talking again.” Anna spoke up, bringing the attention in the room over to her. Everyone stopped talking as you asked her what they were saying. “It’s weird…like a recording. A loop. It says, 'Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or…” She paused for a moment, hesitant for what she was about to say. You could feel yourself nervously swallowing when her gaze seemed to trail over to you as she finished her thought. “Or we hurl Y/N back into damnation.”

They knew exactly where to hit, because the look that came across Dean’s face wasn’t hard to distinguish as a nervous panic. You couldn’t help but feel a bit shaken to your core at the thought of having to go back there in such a hateful place where nightmares roamed few. It was a scare tactic, and a pretty damn good one, yet it was a cheap shot to scare everyone. They were become desperate to get what they really wanted. So, you decided to play along as bait, dangle yourself in front of danger one more time for both sides. You looked over at Dean and gave him a reassuring smile, wanting to make it clear you weren’t scared. There had been an idea brewing inside your head since the drive down here. You knew it was crazy and could end up with you getting hurt, but you had no other choice anymore.

"Anna,” You turned your gaze over to the angel and walked forward to her. “Do you know of any weapon that works on an angel?”

“To what? To kill them?” She asked you with confusion. You nodded your head at her, her face dropped into disappointment. “Nothing we could get to, not right now.”

“Okay, wait, wait.” Dean spoke up. “I say we call Bobby. We get him back from Hedonism.”

“Dean, what’s he gonna tell us that we don’t already know? I’ve got an idea. It’s probably a stupid one, but we’re running out of options.” You said, cutting him off so you could explain yourself. “I mean, Ruby’s right. We can’t fight both sides—so we take one each. You and Sam help Anna find out where her grace went or get your hands on something that can at least stop an angel for a little longer. Ruby and I can take down Alistair together. He won’t expect it.”

“You lost the knife, genius. It’d be suicide going after a demon that strong.” Ruby remind you. You gave her a look, wondering if she was going to back out so easily, let the demon who tortured the both of you gone so easily. She fell silent for a moment to think. “So suppose I drag myself into this mess, what makes you think he won’t kill us first chance he gets?”

“Give him what he wants. And that’s Anna.” You said, everyone looked at you like a second head just grown on your forehead from what you proposed. You rolled your eyes. “Damn it, I don’t mean we should use her as bait. Sweet talk him, say I’ll trade her for the demon knife. When he falls for it, lure him right into a devil’s trap and then we either stab or exorcise him. It’s the best way to keep Hell off our back for a while until we find Anna’s grace.”

Everyone thought about it for a moment. Sam began to come around at the idea, thinking this might not be completely stupid, Ruby let out an annoyed and frustrated sigh from your plan. If you read her response correctly from how you knew her, she was pissed at being dragged toward a psychopathic demon like Alistair, but this plan wasn’t half bad. But it seemed not everyone was on board with the plan.

“No, Y/N.” Dean was the first one to speak up before anyone else, not even giving a chance for some constructive criticism from your plan that could possibly help buy some time. You looked at him with a frustrated glare at how he was treating your ideas. You managed to say his name with a heavy sigh, but he never let you put in another word after that. “Damnit, no, just no! I’m not letting you anywhere near him. We’ll think of something else that doesn’t involve you or anyone else killed!”

Dean stopped shouting when he realIzed the entire room fell silent, and you were staring at him with a rather surprised expression. He let out a breath and mumbled an apology with the next one. The man glanced around at everyone before you watched him take off, suddenly needing to get out of here for some fresh air.

\+ + +

Twenty minutes was long enough for the man to cool down from the argument both of you had. It took a bit of work for you to find him in the darkness, you stumbled around on some branches and grass until you found Dean. He was keeping himself busy with research by burying his nose deep in a book. You noticed how concentrated he was, both of his hands were resting on the hood of the Impala as the words on the pages were being illuminated by the small portable flashlight he’d took out. When he heard footsteps coming from behind he looked upward, you could see that he was surprised to see you. You threw your hands up into a defensive position, wanting to make it clear you were here to talk. Dean dropped his gaze back down to the book for a moment longer, still frustrated from what you proposed.

"Dean,” You spoke his name in a soft tone as you stepped closer until you were standing next to him. He tore his attention away from the book and looked over at you. You swallowed as you examined the way his eyes seemed to become even brighter from the way the light was hitting it just right. “I’m sorry for what I said. I guess I jumped the gun a bit on this one.”

“We still have time, Y/N.” Dean tried to comfort you, like always. He knew right now things were difficult and a little scary. But the man would do just about anything to not let history repeat itself on him. “There’s an answer out there. And I’m gonna find it. I’m not gonna lose you all over again when I just got you back .”

“I love you, Dean.” You couldn’t help yourself but say the three words that had been burning on the tip of your tongue for months now. Both of you expressed it with different ways, doing it in small gestures and putting your lives on the line for one another. But you’ve never said the words out loud until right now. And it was the perfect surprise that sent Dean silent for a moment. “That’s why I do all of the stupid things because I love you so much. You gotta realize I’m never going to change. I’d sell my soul for you again if it meant you got to live. I’d face that son of a bitch even though it would scare me to death. You have done so much for me since we were kids. This is just my way of saying thank you.”

“I love you, too.” Dean mumbled out the words, he couldn’t say much more than that. Because it was what he would say if you were put in his position. Dean could feel a lighter sense in his mind for a moment when he saw you smile from what he managed to repeat after. For the first time since being back, both of you were at the most intimate peek, speaking three words that were the honest truth, since you both were kids. And he could finally say them. “Out of anyone, I fell for a woman who was too smart for her own good.”

You bit your bottom lip as you traveled closer to him, all though you were enjoying this moment, you knew things were still complicated. Everything was still going to be there when you got back into reality. “Dean,” You whispered the man’s name as you walked forward and sat yourself on the hood of the Impala. "I know you don’t like this plan, but, we’ve got no other choice. And I think this might be good for me to see him go back to Hell. I

closure from what happened down there. I understand that you don’t wanna talk about it. But it’s never going to go away.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to Y/N.” Dean admitted with a quiet tone. “I can’t.”

“I understand…But it’s not good to bottle it up, trust me. Both of us have seen things down there that changed us. You can tell me everything and I will still love you, Dean. Every single piece and horrible memory you have.” You spoke to him in a soft tone, meaning every word you told the man. You reached up a hand to cup his cheek, but from your touch, he suddenly seemed to change in his demeanour. You furrowed your brow when you saw him staring at you with a look in his eye. He looked guilty, so sad and guilty. “You’re not alone, Dean. That’s all I’m trying to say. If it takes years to tell me, I don’t care. I will always be here for you. I will always love you.”

You sat there for a moment, silence wrapping both of you into a comfort, making you forget about everything for just a moment. And in that moment, something seemed to change. Maybe this is why Anna wanted to become human, because of emotions. Dean made you feel every single one all at once—fear, anticipation, desire. Safe as one could feel, even with demons lurking and angels putting a bounty out on your head, nothing of that mattered right now. Because just like your first date with him, you could feel your eyelids flutter close when he leaned forward and softly captured your lips against his. But there was something different about this kiss.

You lifted your hands from the hood of the car as you wrapped them around Dean’s neck, pulling him closer to you. You opened your mouth as Dean pressed himself closer to you, both of you leaned back until his hands moved away from your waist and now rested them on the hood. If you opened your eyes you could probably see the stars from above. Something about night made you feel different, a warm feeling began to bubble in the lower pit of your stomach. This emotion Anna would have used for a reason to become human, and that was desire. A wanting ache.

Dean never pushed you into doing something you weren’t uncomfortable with, both of you agreed into waiting at the right moment to have sex. You had endless makeouts that turned heated. His hands always liked to roam around your naked skin underneath your shirts or bite at the sensitive parts of your body to see your reaction. Dean did just anything to teach you things about the small pleasures, slowly building you up into the big finale. He admitted about wanting everything to be perfect for the both of you. But in this lifestyle, it was hard. You didn’t want to lose your virginity in some cheap motel room, and going back home never felt right. This, in the middle of the woods, laying on top of the Impala that had grown to a new home for you, seemed like a perfect spot. He would have the two loves of his life for the special moment.

“Dean, wait.” You pulled away from him after a moment of kissing. You moved your hands away from his neck and slowly moved them down to his chest, where you felt the familiar touch of his skin you were urging to see right now, hidden away from his layers of clothing. Your breathing was starting to become heavier when you looked at him straight in the eye. “I’m…I’m ready.”

"What, you want to….now?” Dean asked you, his tone was full of surprise. You nodded your head as you bit your bottom lip. There was denying he’d been craving the moment where he could finally release an urge that had been growing for years. Both of you, with the hex bags, would be safe. And you had hours until midnight. “Are you sure, Y/N?”

“You know, this could be our last night on earth, what better way?” You whispered to him. Dean could feel himself growing a smirk, from what you said. He’d been thinking of ways to make things less complicated and awkward for you, but it seemed you were taking the lead here. You shifted your tone lower as you began leaning closer to his lips. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you, sweetheart.” Dean whispered, his voice growing more huskier.

Things moved quicker than you realized, you could feel your legs tangle around his body, between the kisses and heavy pants, Dean moved his hands around your waist as you locked your thighs around him, making sure you were secure from what was about to happen next. Dean easily lifted you up from the car and began walking forward to the backseat of the Impala, you could feel a gasp of surprise escape your throat when he pushed you against the cold metal and glass. He captured your lips again, keeping you there for a moment as his hands fumbled to remove your jacket, knowing it was the first of many layers that were about to go.

Dean knew things weren’t going to be comfortable if you and him were fumbling around, so a minute later, you were nervously laying on the leather seats with the duffel bag filled with his clothes and jacket brushing against the skin of your arms. Everything in the car smelled like him. From the cologne he wore, the faint gunpowder and hint of oil. It only made your anticipation grown. He leaned forward when you nodded your head to show him you were ready. You opened your mouth, a moan spilling out when you felt his one hand slip underneath your shirt, his calloused fingers brushed against your navel as the fabric of your shirt slowly was drawn forward until you could feel his fingers brush against the lace of your bra. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing the one he’d love today. It was black and lace push up that made you feel so sexy. You broke away from the kiss for a moment so he could toss the shirt to the front seat.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Dean couldn’t help himself but say what he was thinking. His eyes hungrily raked over your body, knowing he was about to take you, it made him move faster. You bit your bottom lip when Dean took off his shirt, revealing muscles that he’d worked on from hunting. You reached up a hand to lightly brush against his chest, your fingers traced his tattoo, and the crevices of his abs as you wandered down. You looked up at him as you leaned forward in your seat, you snuck a hand behind your back and snapped your bra free. You fumbled to take it off, Dean helped work down the straps to let your breasts expose themselves to the cold air.

You softly let out a moan when he captured your lips against his as both of you continued on. Your hands rested on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you as his own worked on the buttons of his jeans, somehow managing to tug them off. You blamed the endless amount of women he’d had shared a night together for being so good. But you didn’t look at it like a bad thing. He slowly rested his hands against your jeans. When he stopped kissing you for a moment, he looked at you, wanting to make sure again that you were ready. You nodded your head. When you felt the freedom of your jeans being tugged off your body and joining the rest of your clothes, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit nervous. But you reminded yourself Dean wasn’t going to hurt you.

Soon enough you’d gotten comfortable enough as both of you were stark naked, arms and legs tangled together as Dean kissed you in ways that was drawing you closer and closer to what he’d been dreaming about. You moaned his name underneath his breath when you felt him softly grab ahold of your thighs, opening them up wider so he could easily position himself to get you ready. You’d heard how the first time always hurt, in movies and books, when you talked to friends after they admitted to losing it during the weekend and telling you on the following Monday during school. It would hurt for just a moment, but the feeling after that, words couldn’t describe what it felt like. You were twenty seven years old and about to lose your virginity to one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met. You were happy you waited until this very moment.

“Dean,” You could feel his name falling from your lips as you closed your eyes, suddenly feeling a painful ache you weren’t expecting after he warned you. He quietly shushed you as he told you everything was going to be okay. He could have prepared you, but you knew the pain wasn’t going to last forever. Dean distracted you by pressing kisses and biting at the crook of your neck, memorizing the parts of your body that you’d always loved. He moved deeper and deeper, stretching you in ways that you’d never felt before. Dean moved his length until he fit himself fully inside of you, giving you a moment to accommodate to the foreign position. He couldn’t help himself but let out grunts and noises, all though he didn’t like virgins, it was the feeling of you squeezing his dick that made him go crazy. And when he heard you sigh and rake your nails down his back, he realized the pain subsided. “Please, move. Please.”

Words couldn’t describe what Dean did next. The pleasure you felt when Dean aligned himself again and pushed himself forward into you was worth all the pain from before. You kissed him again as the car slowly was filled with moans and cries from you in ecstasy. Now you understood why Dean was so hooked on sex. You could feel the high becoming even better when you heard the squeaky sounds of the Impala as you could envision it rocking back and forth. Dean hovered above you, his eyelids were hooded as he grunted out your name between moans. His hands rested on the windowsill to give you better angles that reached places that made you squeal out in delight.

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge with each passing second. Sweat covered your entire body as you fumbled your hand to the window, you pressed your hand against the foggy glass as Dean chanted you on, telling you to let go. If you had to die at this very moment, you wouldn’t care. Because you had gotten what you wanted all along. And you knew there would a moment that would never be good as this one. The high was letter than anything you’d ever felt, you were happiest as you ever had been. Soon the both of you were reduced to panting messes as you recovered from the journey. A smile spread across your lips from what just happened. You couldn’t help yourself but say it one more time.

“I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

\+ + +

Words couldn’t describe how you felt right now. You quietly tracked through the woods with a flashlight in your hands so you wouldn’t get lost. All though you would have done just about anything to keep yourself there, intertwined with Dean in the Impala for another few hours and forgetting about the problems that laid ahead for the both of you, there was one thing standing in your way from making it happen. Before you met up with Dean again to talk, you lured Ruby into your previous plan, thinking if the both of you could somehow sneak away just long enough, this could work. You looked down at your phone one more time to see that it was an hour before midnight, Sam was asleep and Anna had been hiding herself away from the demon, probably thinking of a plan to help all of you out. You’d left Dean passed out in the backseat, and if you timed this right, the two of you would be back before either one of them woke up.

You pushed back another tree branch as you stepped into the location Ruby had told you to meet her at. You examined around the area to see you were about to step into a dirt roads that all transitioned into a crossroads when you took notice. Ruby was standing in the middle when you looked forward, and from the look on her face, she wanted to get this quickly as possible. You headed forward to the demon as dug a hand inside your jacket, you pulled out your hex bag before clenching your fingers around it. You let out a faint breath that turned into a small fog of air from the shifting of colder temperatures. Ruby opened up her palm to show a lighter and her hex bag.

“You sure about this?” She asked you.

“No.” You admitted the honest truth to her. You cautiously looked around the eerily quiet area to see if there was anybody lurking around, when you noticed there was only miles of quiet emptiness, you handed Ruby your hex bag for her to burn it. You’d do anything not to face Alastair out in the open, vulnerable to any surprise attacks he might try and pull if you weren’t cautious enough. “But it’s not like we have a choice, do we?”

Ruby flicked the lighter and a small spark ignited, you watched as she put her bag over the small flame and then yours, dropping it into the middle of the crossroads. The bags went up into flames, the color turning into blue as it scorched whatever Ruby put inside to keep you hidden from everything that wanted to see you dead. You nervously swallowed and waited for him. You were expecting to blink and him be standing there with that stupid smirk on his face, the way he would do it whenever he started working on you down in the pit. Your fingers clenched themselves into a tight fist and the memory. But it was going to be worth it to send him back down there. Even if it was for just a little while.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” You would recognize that voice anywhere you went. You turned around on your heels to see Alastair standing across the way from you and Ruby, his eyes examining each of you with suspicion. But a second later his emotions shifted, now it was curiosity to why you and her put yourselves out in the open like this. You remained unfazed when his eyes lingered away from the demon and on to you. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Alastair.” You repeated his name. All thought you wanted to speak with a cold and hard tone, Ruby reminded you to treat him with respect, it would be enough to fool the demon until you got where you wanted him.

“I have to say,” He remarked. “I’m surprised to see the two of you out in the open like this.”

“Desperate times.” Ruby said with a calm tone.

“That they are.” Alastair said, nodding his head in agreement. He looked at the two of you for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out why you would put yourselves in danger. You had no weapons on you, and considering the last time you’d been in the same room as the demon, you’d stabbed him directly in the chest to try and kill him. But here you were like a coward, pleading for forgiveness after you bit the hand that could feed you. And to only make matters worse, Alastair took one of his hands that were behind his back to show you the knife you’d left in his body. “You looking for this, Ruby? Your little friend here gave it to me for safekeeping. I thought you might like it back.”

“Keep it.” Ruby said. “We just came to talk.”

“About what?” Alastair questioned the two of you, his brow arching upward from what the woman standing next to you said. “About how a demon and barely half a human are protecting an angel? We really must revoke your membership, Ruby.”

“Look, I know I’m not employee of the month, but this—I never wanted to get in the middle of this. And I’m sure you don’t like Y/N getting herself into trouble with the other side.” Ruby said, trying to level with the demon. Alastair listened to what she had to say, interested in what he could get out of it. She always tried her hardest to stay out the outskirts of trouble, but, she hadn’t been the best demon out there. She tried killing Lilith and was now keep something they wanted. Alastair asked her why the both of you were really here. “I’ll give you the angel.”

Alastair’s expression changed, he seemed rather intrigued from the offer. “Will you? And you, little miss goody two shoes,” Alastair’s expression changed from what he was hearing. He seemed rather intrigued from what the demon was proposing, but he still seemed unconvinced. You swallowed when his gaze lingered over to you. “You’re just going to let this happen?” You nodded your head, proving just enough of how desperate you were. “And in return?”

"We walk away. Me, Ruby and the Winchesters, both of them. And I want to make sure they don’t get pulled into this mess. Not a single scratch on their body or the deal is off the table.” You spoke to him a commanding and strong tone. It was easy to act confident around him, but to add more of the desperate touch, you needed to make sure he knew who you were doing it for. “This angel business is none of our business.”

"Look at you go, Y/N. I must have had some effect on you. Being a sneaky and conniving behind their backs. I wonder what Dean would think of this new you.” Alastair said. You could see his lips stretching into a half smirk as he thought about your proposition. He began to slowly walk across the road, his eyes never leaving you as he transitioned until he was standing a foot away from you before glancing at the other demon. “Ruby. I’d always heard that you were a devious, cowardly little slut. You two don’t disappoint of who I thought you’d become.”

“So, what do you say?” You asked him. “Do we have a deal?”

“You must have done a lot of soul searching, Y/N. I knew you were always the smarter one in the imbeciles you associate yourself with. You devised a plan that was smart and interesting for me Quite prudent, too. But there’s just one thing.” Alastair trailed off into a moment of silence, leaving you and Ruby hanging off his last words, wondering if he was going to take just one more step around until you got where you wanted him. Your eyes trailed away from the demon as you subconsciously glanced at the marking before looking back at the demon. What he said next made you realize things weren’t going to be this easy. “Did you honestly think I’m that stupid? I know you wouldn’t come here and propose that kind of deal with me. I know you, Y/N. I’ve been inside your head. And I will always be one step ahead of you two.”

You didn’t hear footsteps coming from behind until it was too late for you to fight back. A gasp of surprise escaped you when you felt someone grab ahold of your wrists from behind, forcing them against the lower back and pinning you into place. “Frankly, I was a little pissed off from what you did to me earlier, Y/N. Then you come strolling in here with this whore, trying to make a deal with me. I don’t take deals from the help. I make them.” Alastair walked forward, passing Ruby who had tried her hardest to fight off the demons that held her down, but it was worthless. He drew out the knife again to examine it for a moment as he stopped right next to you. Without even a second to pass, you could feel your body stiffen when he softly pressed the jagged end of the knife to cheek, barely putting pressure as he dragged down the blade across your skin. ”But seeing all the trouble you went through for little old me, let’s talk it over. Like old times.“

\+ + +

Old times were torture. You could feel the leather straps digging into your skin, chaffing and digging into the flesh as you struggled to get out of the bounds you were forced into. You were stripped of all your clothes, Alastair always liked a blank canvas to examine his work, and forced into sitting on a contraption that made your heartbeat pound faster just from the sight of it. What was going to happen when you got in was another story. Your arms were pinned down and your legs locked away so you couldn’t kick, your chest was pressed down from the strap that made sure you wouldn’t squirm around. Time passed slowly when you were left alone. You were left alone in the room that smelled of urine and faint traces of sulfur. All you were left to hear was your breathing that was coming out through heavy pants from your nose. The strap around your mouth was an extra precaution so you wouldn’t speak too much. Not until he wanted to hear you.

Your heartbeat kicked into high gear when you heard footsteps echo off the walls. You looked around the room until you spotted Alastair standing right across from you, his eyes examining the familiar sight of you back in his hands. He shrugged off the suit jacket he’d been wearing. “Don’t want my clothes to get dirty. After all, we know how messy these things can get.” Alastair always had a thing about talking, keeping the conversation civil and casual as he tortured you. He rolled up his sleeves and eyed you for a moment. “Reminds you of your first time with him, huh? Your breathing shallow and heavy. You watching as he prepared himself. Happiest moment of my life when Dean took my proposal. You were his first time. And tonight, he was your first, huh?”

Alastair watched your facial expressions shift away from panic for just a moment, you wondered how he knew He let out a faint chuckle as he placed the demon knife he chose for tonight against your stomach. You flinched at the feeling of the sharp blade dragging against your skin. “I’ve got to admit. It’s sort of pathetically cute to see you clinging so desperately to the old Dean. The noble, protective young man who always did the right thing. Promising to always keep you safe Just like how his Daddy tried, huh? Look at how that ended up.“ Alastair let out a small chuckle from his joke, thinking of how the women who had loved a Winchester for too long cut their life short. He leaned forward until you felt his hot breath tickle your ear, you concentrated on the wall, trying your hardest to ignore what he was saying. "You know what I despise of your generation? They don’t appreciate what I give them. I gave you a lot, Y/N. I’m upset you don’t like the precious memories I gave you of Dean. The fun times you had together down in Hell.”

You closed your eyes and mumbled a no that was muffled from the leather that was pressed against your mouth. For weeks you’d been telling yourself the memories plaguing your mind were just nightmares envisioned up from the guilt. Dean would never hurt you. You tried your hardest to tell yourself that. But it was one nightmare you had after he admitted to having his own memories of Hell, and how he didn’t want to tell you. You had a dream that you were placed in his hands, and without hesitation, he stepped forward and went on his way. It had shaken you to your very core. You refused to believe that Dean would harm you, take an opportunity to pick up of Alastair’s tools and take hours to tediously carve away at you until there was nothing left. When you had the dream last, back when you’d wrapped up the wishing well case, you’d woken up to a man you had been previously terrified of, begging for mercy for the pain to stop. Alastair knew you were growing used to the punishment you were enduring every single time you were in his care. So, he spiced things up.

"I tried to seek out someone to help me with the torture. So many souls, so little time. But nobody seemed good enough. Everyone was always into rushing the process. There was no patience, no craftsmanship. Then Dean came along. He was a tough egg to crack, let me tell you…” Alastair kept talking as he circled around you. “It took me years for him to say yes. That boy sure holds onto a lot of guilt. He pretends to be strong and so innocent…” He reached out a hand to rest the blade against the hollow of your throat, you couldn’t get yourself to even breathe, afraid he was going to kill you. “That’s the thing about torture, it can wear even the best of soldiers down. You just need to know where to apply the right pressure and boom.”You let

out a cry of pain when the blade jumped from your throat and onto your stomach again, another flick of pain scratched against your skin. Your breathing was becoming heavier when you felt a sticky substance start rising to the surface. "Do you remember what he said to you, Y/N? All the things you probably believe I made him say?” Alastair asked you. You forced yourself to look at him directly Dean would never truly harvest those emotions. He said he loved you. You looked at him dead in the eye to show the demon you didn’t believe a single word he said. He let out a chuckle. “Lying is fun, sweetheart. But the truth is the real killer I thrive for. The soul tells me a lot when I get it just right, and boy, Dean had some aggression held on you. I think a bit more than his father. But can you blame the poor boy? You were the reason why he was in Hell, after all.”

Alastair was right. Dean said that to you. He said so many things you that you would never forget. Maybe if your mother was a selfish bitch his family would still be alive. You could feel tears burning in your eyes as you pressed your eyelids shut. But that didn’t help. You could see Dean’s face, his green eyes glazed over with such a pure hatred and evil you’d never seen before. You tried your hardest to apologize, but he never listened, the man was working through a grieving process. You were the reason why he was stuck in damnation, why he would turn into a demon. Everything was your fault. You were to blame for his mother’s death. You were to blame for his brother turning into a freak. You were to blame for him dying, for his father dying. All of the mistrials and devastation could have been turned back on you. He worked the truthful sentences as he stabbed, hacked and sliced off your skin until he’d gotten to the bone.

"Don’t pass out on me just yet, Y/N. The fun’s just getting started. And we have all night together.” Alastair’s voice brought you back out from your thoughts. You could see your eyesight beginning to grow hazy from the blood loss and the tears that were still there. “It hurts, I know. But you wouldn’t say yes to my proposition. So I moved on. I asked Dean everyday after I put him back together if he would like to torture souls. He always said no. For three months I kept asking him, and he remained a good little soldier, always saying no because that was the right thing to do. But after three months, he could only take so much. And I sweetened the deal. I told him he could go crazy—pick out any soul he wanted. I thought he would for sure pick his father, he didn’t. Do you know who he chose for his first time?”

Alastair leaned over, your breathing was heavier as your noises turned away from screams of pain to soft little whimpers as gave you a second to recover from the torture that had been going on for quite some time now. Your eyes trailed down to see his hands were covered in your blood as he looked at your expression. Even though you couldn’t say the words, he knew from the look on your face of who Dean had chose. He wanted his first time to be with you. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach at the comparison you were making. “Craftsmanship is what I always prided on him for, the man knew his way to make those soul scream. I wonder what kind of damage he could do with Ruby’s knife. I must say, it’s an exquisite piece. She must tell me where she got her filthy hands on it.”

Alastair held the blood soaked knife to the fluorescent light hanging above the both of you so he could further examine the foreign details. For a moment you thought he was done with you. There was only so much a human like you could take. Your throat was aching from screaming and your body felt like it was on fire from all the marks he was making. He hadn’t gotten to the information he wanted just yet. This was about telling you things that had been lingering for months. You and him were just getting started. “You know, I haven’t been here since Poland of ‘43. Truth is, I loathe it. It’s chilly. No stink of blood or sizzle of flesh or the wet flap of flayed skin. I don’t know how you stand it, Y/N. Perhaps you’ll come back with me if you keep being so stubborn. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner I can finish up this ghastly angel business and return home to my studies.“

You watched as the demon casually circled around you like a vulture eyeing its dying pray. You couldn’t speak from the leather gag he had on you, your eyes trailed upward when he hovered above you. "No rush. Let’s take our time, relish the moment. Continue on with our little heart to heart.” He now was standing right across from you. From the body that he was possessing, you could see the wrinkles in his eyes crease, but even the warmhearted pediatrician he was keeping hostage couldn’t hide the cynical, cold look in his eyes. You stared at him for the longest amount of time, trying your hardest to remain calm as you could. “Now, I’m guessing I can’t go much further–that’s what I hate about you leaving so soon. You’re not strong you could be. But I’m drifting. I’m going to remove this and we’re going to have a nice, civil conversation and you’re going to tell me what I want. You understand?”

It took a moment before you could feel yourself breathing a deep breath of air, you moved around your mouth to try and get some feeling back into the muscles. “Now,” Alastair leaned over, the bloody knife dangling close to your face. “You tell me where that angel is.”

“No.” You spoke to him in a barely audible and hoarse voice. Alastair raised his brow at your answer as he repeated after you with a questionable tone. “No. I tell you, you kill me then Ruby. Hell, you’ll probably kill the boys for the fun of it after you get what you want.” The demon went silent, from the look on his face, you were right about what you said. You took in a few more breaths before you spoke up again, telling him exactly what he wanted to hear. "A few other angels are looking for her. But if we’re fast enough, we might be able to beat them. I’ll show you. If you let me go.”

"You’re a strange woman, Y/N.” Alastair said. “But I see promise in you. Lots of it.”

He was right about him being one step ahead of him this entire time. The old you was cautious and tried to do the right thing. He thought you were going to break down easily because you were going to save the people you loved. But that wasn’t it. In order to defeat an enemy, you have to think like one. You were just the middle man here in the fight between heaven and hell—they both wanted the same thing. You shouldn’t be wasting your time here. If you thought of this just right, everyone would be drawn to where you would be headed. That’s when the real fun would begin.

\+ + +

You kept to your promise the next morning. You told Alastair where the boys and Anna had been hiding out since last night, and without wasting a second, he gotten ready to take what he thought was rightfully his. You found it hard to stand on your own, a painful throb settled through the lower half of your body as the demon who was impatiently holding you up roughly jerked you forward when he found you falling behind his pace. Like promised, you were alive, and barely in one piece. Your clothes uncomfortably stuck to your skin from the leftover blood that stained the fabric. You just hoped this was going to work. If any of this was timed wrong–one side came too early, this plan would be ruined. But it seemed you knew everyone to well. Because when you heard Alastair speak up, his tone frustrated and angry, your eyes popped open to see two familiar faces standing across the barn.

“Don’t you touch a hair on that poor girl’s head.” Alastair ordered at the two angels. He pointed a finger at them, like it was going to change anything right now. “I think I’ve earned a little reward for all the hard work I’ve put in over the past few days. Y/N here has been quite a help.”

Alastair proved that he didn’t need you or Ruby anymore when he looked over his shoulder, and with a simple nod, you were thrown to the ground and off to the side. You would have moved off for the fight that was about to begin, but you barely moved halfway before you had to settle down and catch your breath. You leaned against a haystack to peek across the way, catching sight of the wild and terrified eyes. But you looked away, knowing things were only going to become worse in just the matter of seconds. Uriel proved himself time and time again to have the sense of power. He wasn’t afraid of seeing a demon across from him, in fact, he charged forward. "How dare you come in this room,” He spoke with a low and serious tone. “You pussing sore.”

“Name-calling. That hurt my feelings.” Alastair said. He marched right up to the angel by taking slow and steady steps, the other two demons lurked behind to show power. It was three against two, after all. “You sanctimonious, fanatical prick.”

“Turn around and walk away now.” Castiel warned the demons.

"Sure. Just give us the girl.” Alastair said. “We’ll make sure she gets punished good and proper.”

“You know who we are and what we will do.” Castiel spoke again, seeming to try and avoid a conflict. He was following the orders that he was told, like a good little angel that he was. But even you could see him losing patience as he walked forward to where Uriel was standing. “I won’t say it again. Leave now…or we lay you to waste.”

Alastair shrugged his shoulders, “Think I’ll take my chances.”

The room fell to an eerie silence, making everyone wonder what was going to happen next. It took a second for things to take action, but when it did, all hell had broken loose. Uriel took his chances at taking out the two weaker demons. Everyone had gotten wrapped up in the chaos, grabbing what they wanted. You looked away from the fight when you caught sight of Dean again, coming forward to whisk you away from danger. It would have been so easy to push him away, let the angels and demons kill each other for Anna. But you were tired. You didn’t fight Dean when he gently put a hand around your waist as you draped an arm over his shoulders, the same sparks you felt last night ignited again, somehow, making you feel safe. Like everything was going to be okay. That feeling was diminished when you saw Alastair picking a fight with Castiel, and to your surprise, the demon was winning.

You might not have liked angels, from learning more about them from Anna, and how many of them turned a dislike for you. But Castiel had been growing a soft spot in your heart. Whatever Alastair was shouting didn’t make you believe something good was going to come out of this. Dean found a crowbar lying where the both of you had been standing. You knew he was the stronger one out of the both of you, and considering how Alastair gave you back, he had some pent up rage to work out. You watched as Dean stepped forward and grabbed the crowbar, without giving any signal, he stepped forward and swung the bar right at the demon, knocking him off Castiel and to the floor. But it didn’t do much damage. It only made him angry.

“Dean, Dean, Dean…” Alastair repeated the man’s name as he slowly pushed himself up from the ground. He shook his head in frustration as the man stepped back and hovered in front of you. Sam wasn’t too far behind, overhearing what the demon had said next. “I am so disappointed. You had such promise.”

Alastair revoked your deal when he realized your true plans. This wasn’t about giving him what he wanted, you set him up, and for that, he had a right to punish the people who were closest to you. You could feel his name burning on the tip of your tongue, all the hatred and anger that you bottled up for hours now was leaning toward taking him out. But before you could let out a single breath, Anna gotten what was truly hers. She found her grace hanging off as necklace Uriel was wearing, glowing in a small clear pendent, and while he was finishing off the last demon, she snatched it off and broke the small vial. Everyone stopped what they were doing to see what was going on. Demons can be formed into a thick cloud of black smoke, an angel’s grace looked to have been a soft shade of blue, bright and powerful. Anna inhaled the grace and let it take effect over her body again before she dropped to her knees a second later.

“Shut your eyes.” Anna warned you and the boys. You didn’t hear her, the sight seemed to have been far too compelling to look away. It took a second warning for you to realize the dangers that were about to follow. “Shut your eyes!”

You quickly brought your arms over your face and blocked out what blinding light that was about to come. You and the boys huddled on the ground, trying to keep out the shining light and rustling of winds that had no effect on you. A few seconds passed until the chaos had calmed down into a silence. You peeked open one eye to make sure that things were safe, and when they were, you looked around to see what happened. Alastair was gone, vanished from sight, and so was Anna, leaving the six of you to remain in the barn. It took a moment to force yourself into a standing position again, the throbbing pain in your stomach made your knees buckle under pressure. But before you could tumble back down to the ground, Dean was quick to catch you, snatching you back and nestling you into his side. You were too exhausted from the fight to think about what Alastair had said. Demons lie, why should have you believed anything he said.

“Well, what are you guys waiting for? Go get Anna. You’ve made enough of a mess to get what you wanted.” You remarked at Uriel and Castiel, watching as they headed forward to the three of you. “Unless, of course, you’re scared. Free will is a hell of a power. Oh, but you wouldn’t know.”

"Listen here, you mutt.“ Uriel hissed at you, the hatred in his voice was easy to detect when you easily threw an insult at him. You raised a brow, curious to see this through. “This isn’t over.”

"Oh, it looks over to me.” You remarked at him. “You spineless son of a bitch. Why don’t you go run off, I’m sure there’s a command you need to follow.”

You and Uriel shared a similar cold stone glare, waiting for one another to continue this fight, but things were put to a stop when Castiel stepped forward and placed a hand on the other angel’s shoulder. You looked over at him to see that he was rather upset about how things could have gone, he didn’t want to do this. But orders were orders. You blinked once and the both of them were gone from your sight. You could feel relief settle into you once again when you realized everyone was gone, leaving you to settle against Dean’s chest, pain settling into your body. Too many emotions and things happened in the course of few days. Ruby wobbled herself over when she saw the coast was clear from anything that might have wanted to kill her. She wasn’t badly hurt as you, since you told Alastair what he wanted, she was just for fun. She leaned over with her hand resting above her abdomen and tried catching her breath.

"You guys okay?” Sam was the first one to break the silence. He examined you and Ruby with a close eye, it wasn’t hard to see that both of you had went along with your plan. But things went south last minute. “It looks like you’ve been through hell.”

“Yeah, feels like it. But it worked out like I thought it would. When you’ve got Mothra and Godzilla coming after you, better to step out of the way and let them fight to the death.” You said, a content sigh falling out of your mouth as you glanced around the barn once more. “Even being tortured and I still come up with a plan to save your asses.”

“Okay, okay.” Dean cut you off, you could just hear the eye roll coming from the man. “Now you’re just bragging, Y/N.”

You knew he was going to chew your ear off from the plan you pulled right behind his back. But for now all he could do was embrace you in his eyes, thankful that you didn’t end up dead. You could feel yourself beginning to sink into his embrace, everything you’d went through with Alastair seemed to have disappeared for a moment. Your mind lingered over to someone who had started this mess all together. "So, I’m guessing she’s some big-time angel, huh?” You presumed, looking around at everyone for a moment. “I wonder if she’s happy…wherever she is.”

But you doubted she was. Sometimes when you help people, it doesn’t leave a happily ever after. Actions have consequences. People can hide away from their responsibilities and past mistakes, but one day, it would come out from the dark and take them out by surprise. You glanced around the room until your eyes darted on Ruby, she examined you with an uneasy look, like she felt sorry for you. You ignored her stares as you brushed off the familiar feeling that settled in your stomach. You cranked your neck and stared at the man holding you, a small smile spread across your lips when he stared at you, the kind of expression that made you believe he meant the words he spoke to you just hours before. Dean really did love you. He would never hurt you.

\+ + +

You might not have been more happier than you’ve been in weeks when you saw the motel room door swing wide open and show off the queen sized bed that would be your home for a day before you were back on the road again, traveling back to your real one. Between the angels and demons business you’d wrapped up just a few hours ago, you and the boys decided it might have been a decent idea if you were to take things slow before finding a new case again. You dropped your bags to the bed and let out a sigh of relief, a hand resting against your sore stomach that was still hurting, despite the extra help from Ruby to make the healing process faster. All you wanted to do was take a shower and crawl into bed, wrap yourself into Dean’s embrace and forget everything that happened. You and him decided to bunk together for the night, leaving Sam to a room for himself, a small treat for the young man. You leaned over to unzip the first bag to start unpacking, but you stopped when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist.

The tiniest smile spread across your lips when you realized Dean had tried sneaking up from behind, but the pain settling in from his touch made you suck in a breath. You turned around when you heard Dean apologize from the accidental pain he inflicted on you. You placed a hand on his chest and leaned forward, settling him with a small kiss. “I’m exhausted. How about we get ready for bed and watch some TV? Cuddle, sort of like what so wanted last night, but someone ran off and made we wake up alone.” Dean teased you from the plan you went on without him and left him high and dry. You gave him a playful eye roll as you looked over at the clock for curiosity at what time it was, the neon letters read a little after eight at night. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip. Dean noticed the hesitation settling in your expression. "You feel okay, sweetheart? You’ve been acting weird.”

"Hmm? Oh, I’m fine. Just tired.” You said with a calm tone. You patted Dean on the chest when he gave you a concerned look and headed back to the clothes that were calling your attention. He watched you for a moment. You quietly unzipped your bags and pulled out articles of clothing that you neatly began taking out and putting into piles for repacking. “Hey, wouldn’t it be nice of all of us took a mini vacation? Away from hunting for a little while. I mean, not to Hedonism or anywhere with beaches. But somewhere nice and quiet. I think we deserve it. Don’t you think?”

Normally Dean would have agreed into spending a week away from the ever growing hectic lifestyle of the hunting business. But something seemed off about you. He stepped around the beds to look at you after you turned around, turning your back to him. He leaned down to see your concentration was making sure that everything was neat and tidy. It was a little habit of yours, biting your lip and making conversation while trying to keep busy, something was bothering you. When you reached for more clothes from your bag, Dean couldn’t help himself to stop you. He reached out to grab your wrist and lightly wrapped his fingers around it, making you stop what you were doing and look straight up at him. He didn’t want to say this, but Dean knew it had to be done.

“I know you heard him.” He spoke up with a soft and quiet tone. You knew this conversation was brewing over the past several hours, all though you chose to remain ignorant. You gave him a confused expression and asked who. “Alastair. What he said…about how I had promise.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t lie to him anymore, you nodded your head and dropped the clothes you were holding to the bag. “I heard him.”

“And you’re not curious?” Dean asked you with a bit of surprise.

“Dean, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But you said you didn’t want to talk about Hell, and I’m not gonna push you. I respect your privacy and you respect mine.” You said to him. “I’ll still be here when you’re ready. Like I promised you.”

“Well, no better time than the present.” He tried making a small joke, cracking a smile from the dreaded conversation you and him were about to have. You leaned over to the bed and pushed away the clothes, giving the both of you room to sit down and speak. Dean dropped himself at the edge of the bed as you headed over to the fridge where you’d stocked a few beers for each of you after arriving. You grabbed two cold ones and headed over, he gave you a smile and a thank you for the sweet gesture. Dean swallowed and looked down at the beer. He was going to need all the liquid confidence to get himself through this conversation. He twisted off the top and put his beer into the air, you looked at him with a funny expression from what he was doing. “Here’s to making it out alive somehow. Thanks to your brilliantly stupid plan.”

“You’re welcome, idiot.” You giggled out. You leaned forward your arm and clinked the beer glasses together, before you reached over to give him a sweet and simple peck on the lips, the aftertaste of his first sip of the beer lingered on your tongue. You sat back to normal as you looked over at him, both of you fell into a silence, sitting there with your drinks in hand, waiting for someone to ease this conversation forward. You decided to be the one, knowing there was more at stake here for you than him. “Now, don’t feel like I’m rushing you. We have all night. Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with. But don’t worry about scaring me. I know what it was like to be down there, too”

Dean fell silent from your small nudge for another second or two. You watched as he reached the glass bottle to his lips again, taking a long sip of his beer before swallowing down the drink. He looked around the room before he settled his gaze upon you. "I don’t know about you, Y/N, but things felt…different down there. To me it wasn’t four months. It might have been four months up here, but down there, I don’t know. Time moved different. It was more like forty years.” He started off with information that didn’t hurt too much. You nodded your head at him, understanding the feeling of being stuck down there for at least thirty years. It felt like time never ended. He swallowed, the gaze in his eyes shifting, making you see the fear he’d been holding off for two months. "They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways that you…” He fell silent from the memories he knew both of you went through. You couldn’t help yourself but reach out a hand and intertwine his fingers with yours, giving him at least some comfort to know that you were here, empathizing each word he spoke. “Until there was nothing left. And then suddenly, I would be whole again, like magic…so they could start all over.”

You listened to every word his said, letting the man go through his emotions that he was entitled to. You never said anything or broke your gaze, for this was his time to share emotions, but what he said next, without even a thought, made your stomach twist into knots. "And Alastair, at the end of every day…every one. He would come over. And he would make me an offer to take me off the rack…If I put souls on…” Dean had to stop himself, even saying it out loud made him sick to his stomach again. You were hanging on to his every last word that came out, you could feel your breathing becoming heavier in a terrified anticipation. He tore his gaze away from the wall to make himself look at you, with eyes that were wide with a fearful anticipation of what he was trying to say. Dean looked at you with eyes glazed over. "If I started torturing souls.”

You couldn’t help yourself but look at Dean in the way your anxiety was making you. With a stomach that was tightening and head that felt like you were going to fall over from dizziness. But his answer, in the Dean that you knew him by, sarcastic and ever witty, responded with something that eased the emotional war going on inside your head. “And every day, I told him to stick it where the sun shines.” Dean told you the answer that even made the faintest smirk spread across his lips. You could feel yourself starting to breathe in sweet sighs of relief. Demons lie, this was all some twisted joke Alastair tried pulling on you, even down in the pit. This was a way to break you two apart. You desperately clung to his answer for dear life, thinking that was going to be the end, but it was just the beginning of the very bitter truth. “For thirty years, I told him. But then I couldn’t do it anymore, Y/N. I couldn’t.”

Dean thought you were looking at him with tears burning in your eyes because you felt bad for him, how easily he broke down in the pit. He felt safe enough to feel sorry for himself as he continued on. “And I got off that rack. God help me, I got off it, and I started ripping them apart.” He admitted the honest truth to you. You could see him finally break down, guilt from what he’d done to so many souls, so many people that were once human, were put under torture. You couldn’t help yourself but slowly pull away from him, sickened by his touch. Dean didn’t even notice. You saw the first tear roll down from his eye. “I lost count of how many souls. The—The things I did to them.”

You didn’t realize the beer slipped out from your grip, landing softly on the carpet where it started pouring out. But you didn’t even notice. You could feel your breathing becoming shallow and deep from the sudden reality. Demons, lie. You could feel the thought nearly screaming itself inside your head. He never meant all those things, all the words he said to you. The things he did to you. A sudden pounding migraine kicked inside your head, you placed your hands on your head, trying your hardest not to break down. There was one more chance to get this right. You could live with Dean torturing souls, deal with the fact he broke down. But you couldn’t live with yourself knowing the man you’d loved, given everything to, carelessly used you like a stress toy. So you forced your lungs to breathe in deep of the wet smell of the carpet and Dean’s aroma, all of it made you sick to your stomach. You put your hands inside your head and looked at the man.

“What you did to me.” You spoke up to him with a weak and tired tone. You set up the bait and wiggled it around in his face, you were expecting several dreaded seconds until he looked at you with a shocked expression, wondering why you would say such a thing. Only that never happened. You watched as his face scrunched up, like he was trying his hardest not to sob, tears were now falling down his face. You opened your mouth, but no words came out for the longest time. And when they did, you barely could understand between your broken sentences. “You…I…I thought he was lying. Alastair lied. No. You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Dean managed to speak, an apology felt like a slap in the face. “I am so sorry.”

You didn’t give him a chance to explain himself of why he did it, the sudden urge for fresh air clouded your judgement. All you knew was that you needed to get out of this room before your heart jumped out of your ribcage from pounding so hard. You jolted off the bed and rushed for the motel door, you roughly twisted the doorknob, only a whimpering sob came out when you realized the lock was keeping you from escaping. Your shaking hands reached to turn the deadbolt, but Dean lightly grabbed your hand, stopping you for a moment. But you flinched at his touch.

Without even thinking, you turned around on your heels and swung back an arm. You didn’t realize you punched him right in the face until you felt a throbbing pain settle into your fist and Dean was staring at you with a bleeding lip. You wanted to punch, kick, scratch his bloody eyes out from what he did to you down in the pit. But you stood there with tears burning inside your eyes and a sob threatening to wrack through your body.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much! Everything’s your fault. I wish you were never born, you monster. If you weren’t alive maybe I could have gotten a normal life.” You hissed at the man with a venomous tone. Dean looked at you with a surprised expression, you scoffed at him before you lunged forward and pushed him hard as you could. But he barely moved compared to your size against his own. “That’s what you said to me, you son of a bitch! When you were stabbing, cutting and slicing me apart. I kept begging for you to stop, but you wouldn’t! You just kept going! So sorry if I don’t feel bad for your crocodile tears.”

"Do you know how long I kept this inside of me, huh? Months, Y/N. What I did to you still eats me up inside every single day.” Dean roughly grabbed ahold of you by your shoulders, forcing you to stop screaming at him. He made you look into those eyes and think he was guilty. His voice broke when he tried explaining himself. “How I feel, this…inside me, I wish I couldn’t feel anything, Y/N. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing. I could take it back if I could.”

"No! No, you don’t get to play the victim! You don’t get to stand there and tell me how sorry you feel. Because nothing will change what you did to me.” You were shouting at him again, squirming away from his touch that felt wrong to you. You stood there for a moment, your body shaking from the sudden realization that hit you like a ton of bricks. You and him stood there in a moment of deep and terrifying silence, accompanied by silent sobs and sniffles from tears. “I wish I could hate you. It would be so much easier to do this.” You began walking forward to the bed, leaving Dean alone there for a moment to stand in the guilt that was eating him alive.

You began shoving clothes inside your bag, not caring how messy thing were. You just needed to get out of here. As you continued on packing, you talked to him, speaking with such a frustrated and chuckling tone to keep yourself from crying again. “You know, Alastair promised me something, too—to make the torture stop. You want to know what it was?” You dropped the bag to the bed and looked at him. “He told me the torture would stop if I would become a demon. Just a little pain and it would stop. Did I say yes? No. As much as I wanted to, and God, I was tempted to, I didn’t. I said no for all the thirty five years I was down there. Because I’m not a coward. I don’t take the easy way out. Unlike you!”

"Y/N, please.” Dean tried pleading with you, but you wouldn’t listen to him. “I swear, I lo—”

“Don’t! You don’t get to say you love me. You don’t get to act like what happened last night was true. Or anything that we shared was even real for these past two months.“ You said, your hands clenching into tight fists from what he said. Deep down you thought this entire time, both of you exploring a relationship was some kind of cover up, his chance at feeling normal again. "Honestly, I don’t even want to be in the same room with you anymore. Just…leave, please.”

You and Dean stood there again in a moment of bitter silence. You could feel your chest heaving up and down from the stress of the words thrown back and forth at one another. He looked broken and sad, more than you’d ever seen him before. But you couldn’t feel sorry for him. Dean was about to move, but it was the sound of the motel door opening with Sam’s innocent face peeking through, wondering what was going on. “You guys…” Sam looked around the room to see you and his brother were standing there with blood shot eyes and tear stained cheeks. His mood shifted into concern from what he saw. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m leaving.” You answered his question with something neither one of them were expecting.

Dean stared at you with a surprised expression, his eyes growing wide from the drastic measure you were taking. Sam gave you a funny expression, wondering what caused you to take a leave from hunting. “Wh–What, why?” He asked you. You shrugged your shoulders, remaining calm and neutral from an answer. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Why don’t you ask your brother, Sam.” You said to the young man, a smirk twitched at the ends of your lips when you looked at Dean. “I’m sure he’d loved to tell you why.”

Sam looked at the both of you, still not sure what was going on, but Dean seemed to have gotten the hint. You watched as the both of them made their way out of the motel room, Dean was the last one to step outside and wrap his hand around the handle. He stood in the doorway for a moment, trying his hardest to stop all of this another pleading look, to try and show you how much he was sorry. But you stood there with your arms crossed over your chest and stared off into the distance, not giving him the satisfaction of looking at you. After a long moment, he finally closed the door and left you alone, like you wanted.

You should have been filled with happiness, kicking someone like Dean out of your life after you learned all those terrible things. You should be thinking about going home and taking some time away from hunting to clear your head. But you didn’t feel any of that. Instead you stumbled to your motel bed and tried for the edge, only to land on the carpet. You pressed your knees to your chest as a broken sob escaped your throat when everything hit you all at once. You covered your face with your hands and cried loud as you could. This was the moment in life where you wanted this to be normal. Where you could call up your parents and sob about the rough patch you were having with Dean. But they were dead. Everyone you loved was dead. Maybe it was your fault. You didn’t really think about that. All you could concentrate on was someone, anyone, to take your mind off what you were feeling.

After a while, you were dried up, reduced to puffy eyes and a sore throat from sobbing too hard. You wiped away the remaining tears and listened to the silence, only adding more to the tension in the room. You began thinking about laying here for a little longer, to wallow in self pity, but it was the sound of your cell phone going off that caught your attention. You sniffled and pushed yourself to your feet when you heard the ringing continue. You shoved clothes around the room until you found the phone sitting on the comforter. You snatched it up and read the I.D. on screen, waiting to see Dean’s name, instead your eyebrows furrowed at who it really was.

“Bobby?” You answered, asking the man’s name after you realized he was calling.

“Yeah, it’s me. Why do you sound so surprised, kid?” Bobby’s voice made you suddenly feel different, a laugh escaped your throat as you dropped to the bed. You told him how good it was to hear his voice. “Is everything okay with you, Y/N? You sound…I don’t know, different. I thought you wrapped up this angel business.”

“Oh, we did. It’s not that. It’s just…” You trailed off for a moment, the truth hanging off the tip of your tongue. “Dean and I got into a fight. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Like hell it is.” Bobby’s response isn’t what you expected. You could hear his tone shift, like he was genuinely concerned with what was going on between the both of you. His protectiveness and concern made a smile, a real one, spread across your lips. “What did he do? I’ll kick his ass the next time I see that boy.”

"It's nothing, Bobby. He said some pretty ” You said, shaking your head. “I think we jumped into this relationship on the wrong foot. I don’t think it’s gonna work out.”

“After two months? You’re cutting it a little too prematurely, if you ask me.” Bobby put his opinion in without you asking. All though you suddenly became frustrated from his two cents, he wasn’t done speaking. “I’ve known the kid for a long time, Y/N. He might be rough around the edges and he’ll probably say a lot of stupid things that’ll piss you off, but give him a chance. There’s more to that face than meets the eye. He loves you, Y/N. More than I think he realizes and that scares him. Just give him another chance.”

“I don’t know, Bobby…” You trailed off, a quiet sigh falling from your lips. “I’m going home for a couple of weeks to get my head straightened off. I’ll see how things go from here.”

“Well, why don’t you make sure South Dakota is in your route.” Bobby insisted, making you suck in a deep breath from his offer. “I think you and I need to spend some time together. I’ll even tell you a few hunting stories about your momma that I promised you about. No idjits allowed. I promise”


	11. Family Remains.

People handle stressful situations differently. Some will take the problem head on, trying to figure out ways to make it easier. Others will choose to believe it’s not there, going on their daily lives they are accustomed to, doing things that make them feel safe. Dean Winchester spent the last month hunting, taking whatever case he stumbled upon and tackling it head on, doing just about anything and everything to keep himself fully occupied. He’d always enjoyed a good hunt. And he got to spend some quality time with his brother. For the past six weeks he hasn’t thought about you or the conversation that pushed you away and back home. It was more of the guilt that followed afterward from your reaction he could have never brought himself to believe would happen. Dean had a moment of weakness and ended up hurting one of the most important people in his life.

He tried pushing the thought of his mind and look down at the newspaper article his brother pointed out. Sam was lying in the backseat, finally getting sleep after wrapping up another case two hours ago. Dean was trying his hardest to focus his gaze on the newspaper illuminated by the flashlight, but his mind was starting to wonder. He couldn’t help wonder what you were doing right now.

You were lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, wondering when sleep was going to finally come. That’s what you were doing. You tossed and turned in the sheets that were your own, clean and soft. But it wasn’t enough to drift back to a peaceful sleep you’d been having for almost all of the time since being back home. You thought the extra glass of wine you had at dinner tonight would have been enough to go to sleep since you had an early morning tomorrow. This past month of being home had been liberating, stepping out from the dangerous lifestyle of hunting you’d grown accustomed to over the past four years. Tonight was different. Your mind wouldn’t stop thinking about how quiet and empty the house felt. In the darkness you made out the silhouette of your bedroom and the red neon letters of your clock that read just after one in the morning.

Normally this was the time you crawled into bed after you were done researching for a hunt or calling it quits on one. Instead you let out a frustrated sigh and got yourself out of bed to head for the bedroom door. You flicked on the lamp before you exited out to the darkened hallway to figure out where you were going. You knew what was keeping you up for the past two hours of waiting for something that was never going to come. Sam left you a message on your answering machine while you were out tonight. You thought about deleting it after you heard his voice for the first time in weeks. But the temptation was too much to see what he wanted. So, you listened to it.

“Uh…It’s me, Y/N. Thought you would pick up the phone, but, I guess not. Sam voice was filled with frustration when he spoke. There was an awkward and long pause before he finally spoke up again. "Look, I can’t stand this anymore. Both of you are starting to worry me. You going off like this…and Dean’s been taking a hell a lot of cases. I know what’s it like to deny the truth. But this—this isn’t healthy, Y/N. Pick up the phone and give me a damn call, will you? Or at least check your email. I sent you something you might want to see.”

You weren’t comfortable with calling Sam just yet, but you were curious to see what he had emailed you. You reached out an arm to find the light switch in your office and flicked it on when you felt it. Light flooded through the room as you headed for the computer to find out what was so important. It took a minute before you found the unread email. You dragged the mouse upward and click on what Sam had sent you. What caught your attention was the brief message about you doing a hunt, solo. He linked you to a newspaper article about some small farm town that happened to be a state away from where you were. A man was hacked to death in a locked room inside a locked house. No signs of forced entry, either. It sounded like a ghost—possible salt and burn. You’ve never done a real hunt before all by your lonesome. Part of you was tempted into clicking out of the browser and forgetting all about it. But you read how the house was up for sale, making another owner vulnerable if this was the real deal.

If you left in the next hour you could make it there by the afternoon with time still to grab a motel to do some research. This wouldn’t take anymore than a few days until you would be back home, satisfied to know you’ve done at least some good in this world. You weren’t doing this because you were stealing a hunt from Dean or Sam suggested it because he was worried. There could be more lives at stake here. And you were itching to get back out there, proving that you could do this by yourself.

\+ + +

What a better place for a murder to happen than in the middle of nowhere. You drove down the quiet and peaceful looking farm land with the small house in the distance. There was nothing but miles of land and trees shedding their dried up leaves after the weather was changing quickly. It was kind of exciting for you to be out on your own to solve a case by yourself. All of your supplies was stuffed in the trunk. You were positive this hunt was going to be an easy salt and burn. Research was always the part you took care of on hunts. And it wasn’t like this was your first time with a ghost if you stumbled upon it. Nothing stood in your way of solving this case on your own.

Well, maybe not.

The thought lasted quick as it formed when you pulled up the dirt path that lead up the quiet farm house with a cozy looking front porch. For a brief moment you thought someone was here to view the property, but when you noticed the familiar shape of the black vehicle, frustration set straight in. That lying little son of a bitch. You shut off the engine when you watched Sam himself get out from the passenger side of the Impala, his brother following shortly behind. He lied to you. This was some cheap excuse to get you and Dean in the same room. You roughly yanked open the driver’s side door and stepped out of your car. It seemed you weren’t the only one who was sharing the shock of seeing familiar faces without a warning. You briefly glanced over at Dean, who stood beside the driver’s side door, his brow furrowing when he spotted you heading forward.

"What the hell is he doing here?”

“What the hell is she doing here?”

Both of you spoke at the same time. You scoffed at what Dean had accidentally done, making you cross your arms over your chest and toss him a dirty glare. He seemed this wasn’t a warm welcome he’d hoped for. So he shoved the keys into his jacket and looked over at his little brother, wondering what was going on. Sam let out a sigh, knowing his plan wasn’t going exactly like he thought. You were staring at him with dagger in your eyes as his brother looked a little peeved from the awkward situation he was thrown in. Sam thought a hunt would have at least made the two of you act somewhat civil to one another for the case, things would ease themselves back into place. Boy, was he seriously wrong.

“You said you had another case in Texas. This case was supposed to be mine.” You said with an aggravated tone. Dean couldn’t help himself but let out the faintest chuckle. A moment later he was greeted with a deathly glare from you, the ends of your lips twitched into a snarling frown. “Is there something funny about this?”

Dean was tempted for the longest time to say something back, the insult hung off at the tip of his tongue, but with the threatening look coming from his brother, he swallowed it down. Sam rolled his eyes in aggravation from the response he was getting. “Look, I’ve been trying to get you guys together for the past three weeks. Neither one of you agreed so, yeah, I lied.” He explained the reasoning to the both of you. Now that he was starting to see the problem laid deeper than he thought, it didn’t stop him saying one more thing. “We have a case here and I need the both of you. Can we all act civil enough until it’s done?”

The answer no was at the tip of your tongue, it would have been so easy to say and get back into your car before driving back home, like this conversation never happened. But you shifted your arms tighter around your body and glanced upward to the shabby looking farmhouse standing in front of you. You never liked to dismiss cases. So, you swallowed whatever pride you had and nodded your head. “Fine.”

“Great. Now that we got this problem solved.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath with a rather annoyed tone, you rolled your eyes and stepped forward to the porch steps, only to accidentally bump into Dean when the both of you got the same idea. You quickly stepped back and gave him a scowling glare. He gave you a smirk and gestured out an arm. “After you, sweetheart.”

You gave him a forced smile before you went on your way, walking up the porch steps with him following behind and Sam taking the back. You looked around at the miles of empty fields to see that nobody was around before what you were about to do next. You slipped a hand inside your pocket to pull out the lock pick you had bought before arriving into town. When you noticed Dean standing right next to you from about to do the same thing, you stopped him. “Don’t worry. I got this.” You said, stepping forward to put the small picks into the front door lock. “Wouldn’t want you to break a nail, darling.”

Dean dropped his hands to his side and forced himself not to make a remark, Sam coughed to cover up the chuckle that was about to come through. A second later you pulled out the small metal tools and twisted the doorknob, letting the front door swing open. You shoved the tools back into your pocket and stepped inside first. The brothers followed behind as you began examining the interior of the place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nobody would have suspected a grizzly murder happened just right above their heads in the master bedroom. You and the brothers headed into the living room where you saw a rather tacky looking floral wallpaper. But you could see the wooden floors were rather new along with a fireplace that would be a selling point for the brutal winter ahead for whoever wanted to buy this place.

“Boy, three bedrooms, two baths and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes.” Dean remarked as he examined around the room. He didn’t seem to feel the haunted vibe about the place, he thought the relator who was going to sell this place to a poor schmuck would do a good job. Dean glanced around for a brief moment longer until he caught you staring at one of the closet doors. You crossed your arms tighter around your body as you narrowed your eyes at something in between the cracks. He could feel a slight smirk spread across his lips when he noticed you were focused on whatever was behind the door. Deep in thought, you didn’t notice him sneak behind you and lean forward until he was hovering right next to your ear. “You scared already, Y/N?”

You nearly jumped a foot in the air when you realized Dean was standing right next to you. A deep crimson shade of red began to creep along the apples of your cheeks when Dean broke out into a laugh, amused from the cheap scare he managed to pull on you. He thought it was all in good fun, playing pranks like the old times. But you ignored him and went into the kitchen where you noticed Sam had wandered off to. You pushed open the swinging door and stepped inside the kitchen that was outdated with a tiled flooring that was beginning to curl from years that was starting to catch up with it. You headed for the cabinets to see if there was anything possibly still lingering around as Dean ventured through, wondering what he could do to keep himself busy. As he headed for the sink, you were about to peek outside the window, but the feeling creeped in again, like someone was watching you. Out of spite, you quickly looked over your shoulder to see the door you just came from. You stood there for a moment waiting for a slight shift in pressure.

“Hey, check this out.”

Dean’s voice caught your attention, making your eyes jump away from the door. You headed over to see he spotted a part of the wall where someone must have covered up with drywall and painted over right across from the sink. He knocked a few times on the wall, an echoing sort of sound could he heard, making him believe there was something behind it of importance. You stepped forward to examine what it could have been, but after tapping and feeling around at the paneling, you knew what it really was for. Nothing special or hidden secrets to lead anywhere near important for this hunt.

“It’s probably a dumbwaiter.” You said, knocking on the wall yourself one more time. “All these old houses had it.”

You gave a simple fact like it was nothing before abandoning the find all together, like it wasn’t important. You took a few paces forward as Dean turned his attention to the wall. “Know-it-all.” He muttered underneath his breath, thinking you couldn’t hear him from where you were now standing. You stopped in your tracks for a moment when you overheard him.

You were about to brush it off like nothing, but the temptation was too much for you to pass up for you. If he wanted to be petty about this, two could play that game. You turned around on your heels and headed for the cabinet above the sink to see if there was anything possibly left over. But there wasn’t even a single empty bottle of cleaning supplies left over. Looking over to see Dean was standing with his back to you, the chance arised. You leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Dumbass.” Dean didn’t realize you were standing there, now making him jump a inch from the sneak attack. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you started to walk away. When you glanced around the kitchen, you caught Sam staring at you with a perplexed look. “What?”

Sam opened his mouth, trying to figure out if he heard something from the both of you, only it lead him with closing it back up, coming to terms he was hearing things. You could feel a triumphant smirk spread across your lips as you headed for the swinging door again, wanting to check out the rest of the house. Everyone wandered through the first floor before heading up to the staircase, wondering if there was anything to possibly lead to the conclusion of this being right for you guys. Everyone continued to wander through the first floor of the staircase before finding there was no scrap left from the owner. You headed up to the staircase to see if there was any more possible leads to figuring out if this was the exact kind of case for the three of you.

The first door on the right caught your attention, making that the room where the owner was murdered. You stepped forward and opened up the door, revealing a bedroom that was decent like the rest of the house. The smell of paint still lingered as you slowly walked into the room, the brothers following behind. You saw everything looked like what someone would expect if they were insane enough to buy this house. From the outside it looked like a cute little cottage with at least a few miles from town, along with a room you were standing in where a man was brutally murdered. You let out a faint sigh as you placed your hands on your hips, your eyes roamed around the room. Dean was right about this property was going to sell quickly.

“Well, no bloodstains, fresh coat of paint, this is a bunch of bubkes.” Dean commented.

“Needles’ all over the place.” Sam pointed out. He pulled out the EMF reader to see if there was any possible traces left to see, and for a second he thought it could have been a paranormal case, you put a damper in his findings. You nodded your head to the window that gave a perfect view of the powerlines from across the way. Sam dropped his hand to his side and let out a frustrated sigh when he realized what was causing the reader to frantically jump around. You shrugged your shoulders and continued to examine the room as the young man kept himself busy. He walked over to what appeared to be the closet. You looked over just as he opened up the door, but your eyes jumped down to the floor when he let out a faintly disturbed noise. “Ugh.”

A dirty doll head sat on the floor, your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed the hair was all chopped off, leaving the roots and short strands left. You noticed its chipping and dead little painted eyes were staring at you, like it was trying to steal your soul. Porcelain dolls always seemed to creep you out. This one was like straight out of a horror movie. “Well, that’s super-disturbing.” You muttered underneath your breath. You walked forward and crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze never left the doll’s head. “Think it got left behind?”

“By who? Unless Bill Gibson likes to play with doll heads.“ Dean said. You shrugged your shoulders, a small chuckle escaping your throat from his unexpected comment. Both of you fell silent for a moment as you looked over him. You could feel the smallest smile spreading across your lips, but when you realized what you were doing, you snapped out of it. You quickly cleared your throat and looked away for some distraction, that came from the window you were standing next to. You peered down at the dirt driveway to see something you weren’t expecting. A moving van and an SUV were making their way up to the house. "I thought you said this place was still for sale.”

“Apparently, it’s not.” You muttered.

You and the boys headed downstairs again when you realized a family of four had bought this house, probably unaware of the brutal history lurking inside. It was pretty cheap and the relator they dealt with probably wanted it off their hands. Before you stepped outside to the porch again, you peeked outside to take another look at the family. There was a daughter that looked to be about sixteen busying herself with unpacking the trunk of the car as some guy helped her out. Your eyes trailed over to see her little brother playing with the family dog, both of them having the time of their lives from all the space. Their parents examined the house, you noticed they were wrapped in each other’s arms, probably excited for a fresh start they needed. When you heard your name being called out, you tore yourself away from the window and headed out the front door, following behind the brothers and stepping back into the freezing cold air.

You made it halfway down the small porch steps before the daughter noticed someone strange coming out from the house. She dropped her bags to the grass for a moment and stood up, her facial expressions scrunched up in confusion. Her question of wondering who the three of you were prompted her father to come over to see what was going on. “Excuse me.” He called out, walking forward when he noticed all of you were heading straight up to him. “Can I help you?”

“Hi.” You greeted him with a friendly smile. “Are you the new owner?”

“Yeah.” He answered slowly. “You guys are…?”

“This is Mr. Stanwyk and Mr. Baber. And I’m Ms. Wilson.” You introduced the three of you. You patted around in your pockets before you pulled out a badge you grabbed from the dashboard of your car. Not sure what it was, you put it up at arm’s length with the brothers for a brief moment before pulling it away. “We’re from the county code enforcement.”

“We had the building inspected last week.” He said. “Is there a problem?”

“Asbestos in the walls,a gas leak—yeah.“ Sam listed off a few imaginary problems that could have been enough of a scare to keep this family away for another few days until you wrapped this case up. "I’d say we got a problem.”

“Asbestos?” His wife repeated after Sam with confusion. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning until this house is up to code, it’s uninhabitable.” Sam explained to everyone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” The husband stopped the young man. “You’re saying we can’t stay here?”

“It’s a health hazard.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “You don’t want to.”

“Hold up.” Your attention was drawn away from the husband when you glanced over at the other man who had been standing at the wife’s side. He must have been a family member when he spoke up, showing concern and genuine annoyance from what you were telling him. “We just drove four hundred miles.”

“There’s a motel just down the road, buddy.” You said to him. "Till this gets cleaned up, I suggest you stay there.”

“All right,” The husband crossed his arms over his chest. “And what if we don’t?”

“Well, you get a fine, you go to jail.” Dean lied to the man, trying to scare him enough to get him and his family out of here. “Pick your poison.”

Everyone’s face dropped when they heard the consequences. He knew there wasn’t much room for negotiation from the threat. You heard him let out a sigh and turned his attention toward his family. “One night.” He announced. His daughter gave him an annoyed expression and rolled her eyes from what was happening. “One night, and I’ll take care of everything, A.S.A.P.—I promise.”

“Another motel?“ His daughter asked him with a frustrated tone. "Awesome, Dad. I hope this one has hooker sheets, like the last one.”

“Kate.” Her mother hissed her name underneath her breath. “Get in the car, please.”

You watched for a moment as the family was rounded up once more, grabbing what bags they pulled out before loading them back in the trunk. They were frustrated with the little white lie you told them. But they would thank you in the long run, even though they would never know if you were quick enough. And if they were stupid enough to believe the warning you gave them.

\+ + +

At first you didn’t want to be apart of this hunt when you realized the brothers were going to be apart of it. But since there was a family itching to get inside and settle down, all hands were on deck, knowing this case had a time crunch, your least favorite type of case. You put on a professional face and dressed yourself into a formal outfit halfway out in the middle of nowhere without any wandering eyes. You were starting to regret not getting that motel room. But you managed to get yourself decent enough and tag along with the brothers, sitting in the backseat of the Impala with different sort of emotions. So many things happened in here, good and bad. You pushed all the thoughts out of your head to focus on the case. There would be other times to dwell on the past. You spent over a month forgetting, you could do it for a few more days. 

You and the boys headed for the housekeeper’s home for her statement of what happened. She was the one who had found him, and all though you read up on her statement of what she gotten from the police, she was the best person to understand what went on in the house. You knocked on her front door and did the usual routine, she stood behind the screen door and carried on with the conversation of you asking her questions. “What did the room look like when you found it, Mrs. Curry?”

“I already told the local boys–there was blood…everywhere.” She explained to the three of you. Dean asked her where Mr. Gibson was, that prompted her to let out a scoff in the morbid answer she was about to give, painting a subtly gruesome picture she would never get out of her head. “Everywhere.”

You fell silent from her answer. You’d seen things during your time of hunting, and knowing what she described wasn’t too hard to imagine for you. “How long have you been cleaning Mr. Gibson’s house.” You asked her, prompting the conversation along.

“Mm. About five years.” She answered.

“So you knew him pretty well.” You suspected, she shook her head.

“Oh, not really well. He was real private. Not the easiest man. Not that I blame him.” Mrs. Curry admitted. Her response prompted you for her to further along, wanting to know what she meant by her statement. “His wife dies in childbirth. Daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later. I’d be bitter, too. And I think I’ve got pictures.”

Mrs. Curry disappeared from sight for a few moments. You processed what the woman had admitted. Maybe it was his daughter’s spirit who had been haunting her old home, finally attacking her father, for whatever reason that might have been. Your thoughts were torn away from a possible theory when Mrs. Curry came back with a few pictures. She opened up the screen door the slightest to sneak her hand out, handing off the photographs to her. You examined one to see it was Bill and his wife, the other was of his daughter. You asked her if you could keep these for a while, she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Now,” You looked up from the photographs and to the woman again. “Why’d the daughter kill herself?”

“I don’t now.” Mrs. Curry admitted. “That was before my time.”

“Did you ever notice anything odd in the house when you were cleaning it?” Dean asked her. She looked at him funny, asking him what he meant by that. “Like, you know, like lights going on and off, things not being where you left them.”

“No–Well, maybe there was one thing.” Mrs. Curry said, stopping herself when a thought crossed her mind. The three of you looked at her with curiosity, wondering what it was. “Well, sometimes I thought I heard like a…rustling in the walls.”

“Like a rat?” Dean suspected. She nodded her head. “Must have been some big sons of guns out there, huh?”

Mrs. Curry shrugged her shoulders. “Wouldn’t know. Never saw any.”

“Do you happen to know where Mrs. Gibson and her daughter were buried?” Sam asked.

“Ah, they were both cremated.” Her answer wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

You nodded your head, understanding this hunt had become more complicated than you hoped for. You thanked Mrs. Curry for speaking to you and the photographs before you were joining the brothers. All of you headed back to the Impala, you examined the pictures for a little while longer, listening to the conversation exchanged between the brothers.

“So it probably wasn’t the mom or daughter.” Sam said, repeating the news nobody was happy to hear. “So who was it?”

“I don’t know. But I say we give the house a once over, see if we can find anything.” You suggested. You put away the photographs by shoving them into your pockets for safekeeping. As you reached for the door handle, you looked up to see the brothers were staring at you. Sam seemed happy to hear you were going to be sticking around, his brother seemed a little taken back. You didn’t say anything. All you did was open up the backseat door and slid yourself inside. All you had to do was focus a few days on this case before returning back home, safe and sound.

\+ + +

You thought the bogus warning would have been honestly enough, providing you at least one night to peek around the property to see who was responsible for the previous murder of the first owner. But it seemed the family who bought this house were either smarter than you gave them credit for, or incredibly stupid. You leaned against the backseat window when the Impala began slowly pulling upwards to the farmhouse from a good distance away, blending into the shadows of the night. A frown stretched across your lips in frustration when you noticed all the lights in the house were on, proving this case was going to be longer and more dangerous than you’d hoped.

“Crap.” Dean muttered underneath in his breath. “So, what now?”

“We could tell them the truth.” You suggested with a completely serious tone.

“Really?”

“No, not really.”

Knowing this hunt was going to be reduced into nothing but sitting and waiting for the danger to come, Dean shut off the engine and you leaned against the seat, a small sigh falling from your lips at the very long night ahead for the three of you. Spirits were a strange creature to hunt. Sometimes they showed up whenever they felt it was necessary to seek revenge on someone. Other times they were meticulous, their behavior and patterns drawn on a certain date that is significant to them. The first owner lived there all his entire life before being harmed. It had been over fifty years since his wife passed and another twenty since the daughter committed suicide. There was no reason for his wife to stick around, and when people resort to suicide, their souls settle for the afterlife. Of course it helped ruling suspects out when both of the women were cremated. So that left only two possible options for you. Something was keeping one of the women there, an object or piece of them that was anchoring them from settling down. Or there was another death you didn’t know about.

None of the answers you had been thinking about were possible to answer because the family was occupying the damn house. It wasn’t like you could go up and knock on the front door to tell them you weren’t really what you said you were before. And their house was haunted by some spirit that was probably hellbent on murdering them. That would definitely get all of you thrown into jail. You had your fair share of the law over the past few years. You really didn’t want to deal with it again. You let out another muffled sigh, your arm reached up to the handle to rest your elbow and prop your head up. As you settled your gaze back to the house with drooping eyelids, it was the piercing sound of a feminine scream that sent all of you to sit straight up in your seat.

“Well, that isn’t good.” Dean muttered.

You looked over at the house for a moment to see if you could see anything unusual happen, flickering lights or the change in the car radio, but the only thing that caught your eye was a shadow in the upstairs window. A second later, you heard another scream. You had a feeling what was going on inside wasn’t caused by a horror movie being played a little too loud. Dean turned the engine back on, not even deciding it was going to be a good idea if knocking on the front door in the middle of the night to see if things were okay. Better to be safe than sorry. When the Impala was close enough to the house, you and Sam didn’t hesitate in jumping out and running up the steps before you were pounding on the front door. It was a terribly long second of waiting, muffled shouts and panicked voices could be overheard, finally you saw the door open to reveal the brother. You didn’t give him a chance to go past his baffled expression of seeing you standing on the porch.

“We heard screaming.” Dean said. Somehow he was fast at catching up to you and his brother. Instead of standing outside to talk civilly, him and Sam pushed open the front door, letting themselves inside to see the entire family had been disturbed from their previous activities and settled into the family room. “What’s going on?”

You followed behind, squeezing yourself past the man and heading behind to see if everyone was okay. You took notice from the second you walked into the room that nobody seemed to have been hurt. But something did happen, because Katie, the oldest child, had a panicked look on her face. And her father’s angered expression as he stalked forward to the brothers wasn’t exactly pleasant, either. “Oh, you two!” He hissed at the men. Hiss accusation posing as a question made you stop dead in your tracks from bizarre at how it sounded. “Did you touch my daughter?!”

“What?” You questioned him back, your face scrunching up in confusion. “No, they didn’t!”

“Who are you guys?” He asked another question, his tone never changing.

“Relax, please.” Sam spoke up in a calm tone, and like always, he tried being the voice of reason here. What he was about to say wasn’t going to be easy, but it seemed what happened to Katie wasn’t just a coincidence. “You have a ghost.”

“I told you!”

“It’s the girl!”

The kids seemed to have been convinced from what Sam said, both of them rushed up to their father. Danny caught your attention from what he shouted about a girl. But their father still wasn’t a believer. He turned his back to you and comforted his children by placing a hand on their shoulder. “Both of you, relax.” He said to his children with a calming tone. When they seemed to have gotten the warning, he turned back around again to you and the brothers, his facial expressions dropped back into a serious expression as his voice dropped to a whisper. “What kind of game are you guys playing?”

“Your family is in danger.” You warned him. “You need to need to get out of the house now.”

As if that wasn’t enough of a warning, the spirit decided to have a bit of fun. Your eyes drifted upwards when the lights suddenly shut off in the entire house, blinding you all into a pitch black darkness. You heard someone let out a sharp gasp of panic from what happened. Dean warned everyone to stay still. The room dropped into an eerie silence for a second. Your eyes were beginning to become adjusted to the darkness as you tried looking around for any clues into figuring out what was going on. A second later you heard the sound of the family dog whimpers coming from outside and Danny’s voice shouting the dog’s name in a scared tone. You saw a figure run past you and headed for the door, it wasn’t hard to figure out it was Brian, their father after his wife warned him and her brother Ted not to go. You followed behind the men with the brothers following behind. Everyone stood on the porch for a moment and examined the few miles of land to see where Buster could have gone, but all you could see was empty land.

It was the continuous sounds of barking and whimpers of pain from the dog coming from the other side of the house that drawn all of you into where he could have been. You ran down the porch steps and took a sharp turn across the house as Brian continued to call out the dog’s name. All of you stopped in your tracks when you took a moment to take another look around at the place, but it was the muddy grass and familiar smell of blood that caught your attention. Follow the bloody wet grass. You began slowly walking forward to see where the path could lead all of you. You were hoping what you were following wasn’t what you were expecting. But as you got to the moving van, two words were written in the animal’s blood as it dripped down, still fresh.

Your stomach filled with disgust as you looked away from the sight. Everyone was taken back from the warning nobody was expecting to find. You looked around to see if you could find Buster anywhere, even his body that you were presuming was the paint in which was written for the taunting threat. But he was nowhere to be found. You looked over your shoulder and back at the porch when you heard several footsteps approach. The rest of the family wandered out to see what was going on. Katie caught sight of the bloodied words as her mother was unfortunate enough, luckily Danny was too busy looking for the dog.

“Go back inside.” Brian ordered at them. “Go!”

It took a second before you watched the kids and Susan head inside, away from whatever danger that might lurk out. “We are not the bad guys,” Dean tried reassuring the other two men that were standing in front of you. Brian and Ted looked at the three of you with skeptic expressions from what he said. “But you’re in danger.”

“First thing’s first.” Sam said. “You got to get your family out of here.”

Brian was beginning to come around at the warning you’d been trying to tell him over the past several minutes. He looked back over at the truck to see the bloodied words either one of you could have done while in his presence. A moment or so passed before he looked over at Ted, both of them silently knowing what the right thing to do was. It was time to get everyone out of here before things escalated to the point where someone else was hurt.

All of you headed back to the house and told the rest of the family about the plan. Brian grabbed his keys and wallet as you ushered everyone out the front door, not giving the kids a chance to get dressed out of their pajamas. But they didn’t seem to mind, both of them wanted to get the hell out of here quick as possible. They rushed down the porch steps, wanting to get the hell out of here themselves. “Head to the motel I was talking about.” You told Brian as the both of you were in the lead. “You’ll be safe there.”

“What are you three gonna do?” Brian asked you, but you never got a chance to answer that.

Every swear word you’ve ever known in your entire life cross your mind from what you saw. The tires of the SUV and Impala were slashed, and not just one, all of them were. You could feel your frustration rising as Dean stalked over to his baby, his temper automatically being lost at damage that was done to his car. Sam headed over to the trunk and opened it to get some back up, but what he saw wasn’t making you feel better. “Dude, the guns are gone. So is the…” Sam dragged your attention away from the fiasco and over at him when he was scavenging through the trunk for protection. The only thing that had been left was two flashlights. He grabbed them and headed forward to the both of you with a frustrated expression. “Basically, everything is gone.”

“Truck’s no good.” Ted called out as he jogged back to the rest of you. “Both tires slashed.”

Dean paced around in the grass as he tried thinking for some way to get out of here. But his frustration at the lack of answers was beginning to make his blood boil in anger. “What kind of ghost messes with man’s wheels?!” He shouted in absolute anger, his voice echoing into the night air. You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest.

“What’s going on? What’s going on?” Katie muttered to herself as she wrapped her arms tighter around her body. You glanced over at her for a moment to see she was in absolute distress. But things only gotten worse when you heard her let out a piercing scream. “She’s there! She’s there! She was right in the woods!”

Everyone frantically looked over at the wooded area not too far from where the house was, you tried looking around to see if you could find anyone, but you couldn’t make out anything in the pitch darkness. The brothers tried examining the area as they took use of the flashlights, but even they could find this mysterious woman. “What’s a ghost doing outside?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, your eyes still wandering the grounds. You looked over at Sam when he answered your question with another one.

“You want to stay and find out?”

“Change in plans—Everybody inside!”

“Are you crazy?” Ted shouted at you with anger. “We need to get the hell out of here!”

“In what?! This ghost is hunting us!” Dean couldn’t help himself anymore when he snapped at the man. He was taking control of the situation, dragging everyone back to the place where they least wanted to be right now. Nobody was going to get hurt when he was around. “Everybody back inside now! Move!”

The three of you ushered the family back into the indoors where the brothers helped get them settled into the living room where at least there was a fireplace to keep warm. You scavenged through the boxes until you found exactly what you were looking for, salt. It was enough to keep the spirit at bay until you found out another way to get everyone out of here. When you came into the room with the salt canister and shaking it about to signal your presence, the family looked at you like you’d grown a second head, the brothers were nevertheless relieved. You busied yourself with dumping out a line of salt, making sure the perimeter was big enough for all of you to have space while being cramped in here.

“Whatever’s outside, it can’t get in this circle.“ You explained to the family, as they were all probably wondering why you were doing this in the first place. You poured out the last bit of salt you had left inside, making sure everything was perfect. "As long as the salt line is unbroken, this is the safest place to be.”

“Safe from ghosts?” Brian presumed. You could hear from his tone of voice and hesitation that he had no idea what was going on. Things were only getting stranger by each passing moment. Dean answered the man’s question with a yes as he took his gaze off the fire he was currently crouched next to with an iron poker in his hand. “Okay. I’m not listening to this anymore. Come on. I got to get my family out of here. Let’s go.”

Dean pushed himself up to a standing position when he saw Brian gather up his family. “Nobody is going anywhere until we kill this thing.” He said, giving them all a silent warning.

“Sir, please. This is what we do.” Sam stepped in front of the man, trying himself to approach this situation a little bit differently. Sometimes calm and speaking in a polite was better than barking orders at people and expecting them to follow commands. “Just…trust us.”

“You hunt ghosts?” Danny asked, you nodded your head. You could see his face light up as a smile spread across his lips, you softly chuckled from what he asked next. “Like Scooby-Doo?”

“Better.” You said, giving him a small smile in return as you reached a hand inside your jean pockets where you’d been keeping. You took them out and walked over to Katie, who had been the only one that you knew of who came close to at least seeing what this ghost looked like. You showed her the small pictures and explained her what you wanted her to do. “You saw her outside, right? Okay. Does she look like either one of these girls?”

Katie looked at the photographs for a moment until she pointed at the one of Bill Gibson’s daughter. “Her.” She answered. “She was paler and a lot dirtier, but that was her.”

“That’s the girl in the walls.” Danny said, adding more to this theory.

You shuffled the photographs back together and headed to the brothers. Most of the time spirits who kill themselves don’t stay around. You were confused as when you first started this hunt. “So it’s the daughter?” You asked, unsure of what was going on anymore.

“That girl in the picture.” Susan spoke up “She-She’s dead?”

“She killed herself inside this house.” Sam said, explaining the grim news to everyone.

The family wasn’t expecting to hear yet another death from this place, one was enough. You didn’t understand in the first place why they would take a journey to buy a home in the middle of nowhere with a grizzly murder happening just upstairs. But it seemed either the marked down price because of it was good enough, or the realtor never told them about the gruesome past. You looked over at the brothers, wondering if they knew how to explain who was haunting this place, and why the daughter’s spirit was still lingering around. “So, what—the maid got her story wrong?” Dean asked. He subconsciously rubbed his chin, trying to think of answers to make sense of what was going on here. “Rebecca wasn’t cremated?“

“Unless her spirit’s just attached to something inside the house.” Sam presumed.

“She hung herself in the attic, right?” You asked, Sam nodded his head. "You mind if Dean and I babysit? You can check it out.”

“Look—I don’t know who hung themselves here. Maybe something is going on here, but—” Ted butted himself into the conversation. You looked away from Sam when Ted stood right next to you, trying to be a thorn in your side. You tried telling him it was a spirit, he cut you off to correct you with the theory he thought it was. “No, it’s just some backwoods hillbilly bitch, and I’m not about to sit around here waiting for her to go all ‘Deliverance’ on my ass.”

“Well, nobody’s leaving the house.”

“Stop me.”

Dean took him up on that offer when he started walking straight out of the salt line and for the front door. You watched as Dean stalked after the man, and before you knew it, he was roughly shoving Ted face first into the wall, pinning him down. “Listen, man. I’ve got a gun. You don’t get your ass back in that circle, you’re gonna have yourself a third hole.” Dean threatened with a low tone, wanting to make sure Ted knew he was serious about keeping everyone alive, even if it meant hurting them to save others. Ted stared at the other man for the longest time, waiting for him to call bluff, but he only saw a cold and serious demeanor. Dean shoved him back into the circle, where Ted shuffled back off to quietly.

You had to admit the little white lie worked like a charm, Ted was standing back in the circle with a pissed off expression after being defeated. But you walked over to Dean, knowing well enough he was lying straight through his teeth. “Dean, you don’t have a gun.” You whispered to him, making sure your voice was quiet as possible so nobody would panic.

“And?” Dean asked. “I’m not letting that bastard or anyone else die tonight.”

You looked at him with an uneasy feeling settling in your mind. For a split second you were looking at him a bit differently, suddenly wondering if he was okay. It’d been over a month since you seen or talked him. Both of you were at each other’s throats for the littlest things. You remembered how Sam mentioned in his message that Dean was obsessing over hunts, like he was getting himself lost in the feeling. “Hey, Dean.” You stepped forward so you were closer to him. “Are you okay?”

Dean contemplated on giving you an answer to hold you over until this hunt was over. There was things he wanted to tell you, apologies he’d been practiced for the past few weeks. But he settled with changing the subject all together to focus everyone back at what was happening. He looked over at his little brother and nodded for the stairs. “Go.”

\+ + +

It’d been a half an hour since Sam left to explore the attic where Rebecca had killed herself. Everyone was left to sit in the silence. You sat with the kids and tried to keep them occupied, quietly talking about their old lives and school, focusing them on things that made them happy. And not about the ghost who was haunting this place and murdered the family dog. For the most part it was working as Dean kept guard by pacing around the salt line with the iron rod in his grip, looking for anything that could become a threat. Everything for the most part seemed calm and quiet for the most part. But the feeling was ruined when Ted lightly ran his finger across the salt line, leaving a few marks in the middle. He stood back up and looked over at Dean with a smirk spreading across his lips from what he was about ask.

“Hey. Fonzie. Question for you. This indestructible force field made out of salt.” Ted seemed to have been asking a reasonable question, but what he said next made you roll your eyes in frustration from how he was acting. “Have to be kosher stuff, or what?”

“Knock it off, Ted.” Susan grumbled at her brother.

The cocky smirk on Ted’s face only lasted for a few seconds until you heard the softest sounds of creaking floorboards. You quietly hushed everyone as the noises got louder. You swallowed as you pushed yourself to your feet, your eyes scanning around the dark room, that was, until your eyes spotted the closet door across the room. It seemed the spirit was making her grand entrance, after all. You stepped closer to the salt line when you saw the wooden closet door slowly be pushed open with a pale hand. What came out wasn’t what you were expecting a spirit of a young woman to look like. What came creeping out of the closet was a woman who was frail and small, sickly pale skin with hair that was tangled and messy. She looked so dirty and dressed in a raggedy dress. As she approached, you took notice of her small and quiet steps.

“All right, everybody stay calm.” Dean reassured everyone. He fastened his grip on the iron tighter as he got ready to swing, for worse case scenario. “She’s a ghost, she can’t come into the circle.”

The young woman continued to take slow and steady steps. You took notice of how she flinched and tweaked when she was getting closer. When she was at the edge, your eyes dropped to the salt line, where she stood inches from. She bared her rotten teeth in a snarling frown as her knife she’d kept hidden in the sleeve of her dress began to slowly creep down, she wrapped her fingers around the handle. When she took another step, it was straight inside the salt line.

“I thought you said ghosts couldn’t cross the circle.” Katie said with a panicked tone.

“They can’t.” You said with a rushed voice. “She’s not a ghost.”

You had a million questions rushing through your mind at the moment, but the only thought you were comprehending was getting everyone out of here. Dean seemed to have been confident enough with dealing with a deranged woman who was screaming like a banshee and waving around a knife. You managed to help the family out the front door outside and instructed them to hide for the meantime. When they were safe, you quickly headed back inside the house with the flashlight in hand. If she was coming out at night, and if she lived in the walls, you had a theory of how to get rid of her before Dean managed to get seriously hurt.

You ran through the house, following the screaming that was only getting worse with each passing second. The girl was trying her hardest to somehow take Dean down, who was now lying on the ground, blocking every swing she was giving. “Hey!” You shouted on the top of your lungs, dragging her attention away from him. When she looked over her shoulder at you, you turned on the flashlight, directly the blinding light straight into her eyes.

The girl hissed and cried out in pain from the substance she’d probably hadn’t seen much of in her lifetime. She covered her eyes and scurried off Dean, trying her hardest to get away from the spotlight you had on her. You followed the girl back to the closet where she slipped away. You cautiously opened up the doors and examined the empty closet to see where she could have gone, but there was nothing. You turned off the flashlight and let out a breath as you leaned against the wall. When you looked over at Dean for a moment, your eyes took notice of Sam, who was now back from the trip to the attic, and wondering what the hell just happened.

\+ + +

Humans were creatures you still don’t understand the extent of. Sometimes hunting monsters like spirits and demons were so much easier because you understood why they wanted to cause mischief and murder. It all boiled down to decades and decades of torture and lingering hatred, their own personal hell to chip away their soul. But with people—there could have been so many reasons why someone would hurt another person. This was starting to look like a case you took a few years back caused by a suspicious missing person vanishing out of thin air. While you were suspecting something supernatural could have been at fault, you stumbled upon a family living up in the woods that kidnapped people two at a time. They said it was easier to keep away suspicion, but they got it wrong when they kidnapped Sam, leading you and Dean to figure out— their sick game. From the interior of the house they did more than hunt and kill their victims. You were suspecting what you were about to unfold wasn’t going to be the least bit normal. Spirits you could deal with, a small woman living in the walls was another problem.

You and the brothers headed out of the house when you cleared the first floor to see that she was long gone. You steady yourself on the porch railing and raced down the steps, singling your presence to the family that was scattered around the grounds. Brian was the first one to pop out after the three of you stepped down to the grass. You made him cut the small talk to a minimum and gather everyone up. One good thing about dealing with a human, it took little effort to wipe their presence off the earth.

“So, it’s not a ghost.” Dean said, stating the rather obvious fact by now.

“It’s just a girl?” Sam asked with confusion hinted around in his voice.

“It’s not just a girl. It’s psycho nell.” Dean commented. “I’m telling you, man–humans.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You muttered at him. “So, who is she, then?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the daughter, Rebecca. Maybe she didn’t hang herself.”

“Dude, no. She would have to be at least fifty by now. Don’t think a woman her age would be capable of surviving.” You said, shooting down Dean’s suggestion. He gave you a look, wondering who you thought it could possibly have been. "I don’t know. What’d you find in the attic, Sam?”

“Some old junk. I found Rebecca’s journal.” Sam said. “That’s about it.”

“I wish you’d found a howitzer.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, causing you and Sam to quietly chuckle at the streak of luck that would be great for right about now. “Listen, we gotta get this family safe. I mean, it’s just a human, so they can make a run for it. We just got to hold her off.”

You looked over your shoulder when you heard the sound of crunching leaves and footsteps coming from behind. Half of the family came running out from their hiding space and up to you and the boys. Susan called out for her son and brother who were still nowhere to be seen. Ted called out that he was okay, jogging out from the other side of the house, your expression dropped into slight panic when Danny wasn’t coming out. Even from everyone shouting out his name a dozen or so times. Susan walked forward and continued calling out her son’s name, her voice growing louder from the silence that followed after. You were trying your hardest to believe that he was still hiding somewhere else safely, but when Ted spoke up, you tossed him a dirty glare at his comment that wasn’t needed at this very moment with his nephew still missing.

“Told you it was some crazy bitch.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Hey, head to town.” Sam instructed to the family. “We’ll take it from here, okay?”

Susan didn’t listen, her mind was preoccupied right now with finding her youngest son. She called out his name again and took small steps forward to see if she could find the boy’s shadow in the distance. But all she was greeted with was her husband coming forward from behind and trying for himself to call out their son’s name. Her breathing was becoming shallow when she frantically examined the the farm land, nothing was changing in the scenery.

“Brain, where—where is he?” Susan asked her husband in a meek tone, she took small steps forward as she could feel her body beginning to shake in fright at the terrifying possibilities that started to cross her mind. The man called out his son’s name, but it wasn’t loud enough. She tried by screaming his name until her throat hurt. “Danny!”

She didn’t realize she was rushing forward to the outskirts of the near distant woods until her husband came rushing forward. He muttered the woman’s name in a soothing mantra as he stepped forward in front of her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and stopped her before she could run off. “We will find Danny. I promise you.” Brian whispered to his wife, she responded with a no as she shook her head. He could see tears forming in her eyes from what he said next. “Now take Kate and go now. Now! While you still have a chance!”

“Not without Danny!” She screamed at him, fighting his grip. “No way!”

Things were beginning to become more complicated when Kate shook her head, shouting that she wasn’t going anywhere. You stepped into the argument before this blew up into a disaster that would make things even more complicated. “She’s right. She’s right.” You said, stepping in between the couple and softly breaking them apart. “Until we find your son, the safest place for you right now is in the shed.” You pointed at the small wooden shed right across the field, Kate quickly tried protesting the plan. She told you that she wasn’t going in there, you gave her a look. “Yes, you are. It is the defense. The windows are boarded up. It’s got one door. It’s our best shot right now. Trust me, please.”

Brian instructed the two women to go along with the plan, knowing it was really the best idea right now. You watched as they headed off to the shed, leaving the five of you now alone, needing to search for the youngest member that was nowhere to be seen. “All right.” Sam spoke up, deciding to take control of the situation after seeing the shed door close. He looked over at Brian. “You and me will take the outside. Y/N, the rest of you take the house. Let’s go.”

You rolled your eyes from who you were paired up with; Ted, the man who had spent all of his time wasted on sarcastic remarks and comments about this entire hunt. And Dean, well, you still didn’t feel comfortable being in the same room as him. But you swallowed down the protest and headed for the house again, knowing you had a little boy missing, and that was the most important thing of all right now. You wandered through the darkened house with a flashlight in hand, making sure to avoid boxes that were spread around the place. You and Dean headed forward to the closet where you saw the woman disappeared into, Ted busied himself by checking boxes before he spotted the one marked as kitchen. He moved the one sitting on top of it before opening up the box, pulling out a few of the largest knives he could find. When he looked over to see what you and Dean were doing, his face scrunched up.

"What are you doing?” He asked the both of you.

Dean moved his hand down the wooden boards of the walls, pushing down to see if there was a weak spot he could find. Most of these old houses had a crawl space, perfect for someone who was trapped inside the walls. “She’s human.” You said, looking over at Ted to explain. “She had to come from somewhere.” You glanced back at the progress Dean was doing, as he moved over another spot, he pushed down at a squeaky spot in the paneling. “Bingo.”

You stepped back so Dean could take apart the wall, revealing the crawl space in between the walls. Your flashlight spotted the blood on the backside of the wooden paneling, probably from the dog, and whatever else she got her hands on during her stay. You quickly reached a hand to your nose, pinching your nostrils when the familiar wiff of decomposition hit you. Ted groaned from the smell that was too much for him to handle. Dean didn’t seem to be bothered, he grabbed the knife from the other man before he ventured into the crawl space. You watched as he disappeared for a moment into the small space, getting himself engulfed into the darkness and cowbeds. You crouched down and peeked your head in to see how the progress was coming along. He made it a few feet in before he nodded his head at you after he made sure the coast was clear.

Since you were smaller than both men, it was easier for you to slip inside the hole in under a few seconds and stand in the confining space. You cautiously looked around with the flashlight as your other hand gripped around the knife. Ted followed after you, wanting to see what was going on here. You managed to find Dean after shuffling through pitch black darkness and cobwebs you’d accidentally stepped into. You made your way through with Ted, where both of you saw a small hole in the middle of the floor where Dean was standing across from. You sniffed the air a few times, the smell of rotting bodies was strong, but it was what lying underneath the house that had you worried. You wondered what was hiding for you to explore.

“You’re not going down there.” Ted whispered.

“Well, do you want to?” You asked him, Ted immediately fell silent.

Dean decided that he was going to be the first one down since he was the closest. He looked down at the small opening and let out a breath.“Please nobody grab my leg. Please nobody grab my leg.” He muttered to himself as he started to slowly put his foot forward. You grabbed a hold of his flashlight so he could squeeze himself down, when his legs were safely in, he squeezed himself further until he dropped to the floor. You gave his flashlight back when he reached a hand upward. You let out a breath when you realized it was your turn. You followed Dean’s way of going down with feet first, you dangled on the floorboards with your arms keeping you up before you squeezed down your arm, when you let go of the other one, you fell right down, landing onto dirt and engulfed with the worst smell of death.

Dean was only a foot away from you, he examined the dead animals that were around all of you. You coughed at the smell as you got yourself into a standing position, where you tried following behind Dean and examine the area around you where the woman called home. As you looked forward, a sharp gasp of surprise escaped your throat from what you saw dangling in front of your face. Dean immediately turned around to see what was going on. “Y/N, you okay?” He asked. Your flashlight quickly spotted what was dangling in front of you, a dead rabbit. You nodded your head and focused on the other dead animal carcasses that were spread around the place, a fresh one with a familiar fur coat caught your eye. “Dog—it’s what’s for dinner.”

Your stomach twisted and nose crinkled at the sight as you continued on wandering through the darkened bottom floor of the house, tracking through the dirt and bloodied bodies of animals that were across the place. You quietly called out Danny’s name, wondering if he could be around here, and not become dessert for tonight after eating the family dog for the first course. You heard Ted from the opening, he asked if either one of you found anything. “Yeah,” You looked over at the place she must have called home. “her kitchen.”

You and Dean continued on wandering through the place, spotting even more bodies that were only left as fur patches. Nothing was giving a single clue of where she or Danny could be. You continued on examining the place with the flashlight, you almost missed it, but your eye caught a painting on the cement wall. You brang the flashlight over to see a stick figure drawing of two people, holding hands. You reached out a finger to see if the blood was dry, but it was completely wet, like she recently done it. Both of you looked over at each other with slight wonder. Everyone got lonely. You wondered if she wanted Danny as a friend. But it was the familiar piercing scream that broke you away from your thoughts, you realized she was home, and Ted was alone with her.

The both of you tried getting back to him before it was too late. You were the first one to make it closer to the opening in the floor, Dean was fast on your heels. You almost thought you were going to be there in time to see Ted. You were hopeful that he could have fought her off, but it was seeing his head fall through that made you jump. Before any noise could come out of your throat at the surprise attack, Dean was quick to cover your mouth with his hand. Both of you stumbled to the ground, making sure to stay perfectly still. As Dean focused on the ground, your eyes wouldn’t leave Ted’s face, and the small droplets of blood that fell from his opened mouth.

\+ + +

Dean was the one who carried out Ted’s dead body from the house, you silently followed behind, with no evidence to know if Danny was still alive. The two of you left Ted’s body respectfully somewhere safe until he could be properly put to rest after this entire fiasco was over. You and him dreadfully went to the shed where everyone was. You knocked on the door and called out for Sam, informing him that it was you and Dean. A few seconds later, the door opened. You sucked in a deep breath and stepped inside the cabin as Dean shut the door and locked it. The first question came from Susan, she asked if you found Danny. Your shoulders sank as your eyes dropped to the ground. Dean answered the woman with a no.

“No?” Susan repeated after him. “W-Well, where’s Ted?”

Dean answered her again. “He’s outside.”

“Well,” Susan spoke up again. “Why doesn’t he come inside?”

The room dropped into silence as you lifted your gaze off from the ground and to Dean, both of you knew the dreaded truth. He let out the smallest sigh as he looked over at Susan. “Because I had to carry him out. I’m sorry.” Dean muttered to her. Susan tried denying what she was hearing, for part of her worst fear that she imagined inside her head was coming true. As she worked herself up by mumbling that her brother wasn’t dead, Brian spoke up, wondering if their son was harmed, too. Dean shook his head. “We were inside the walls, and she attacked. And I couldn’t get to him in time.” The news made Susan break out into a sob as she tried covering her mouth with her hands. She buried her face into her husband’s neck as she started crying. It was Kate asking if her uncle was dead that made you feel even worse. But Dean was taking all the blame. “I shouldn’t have left him alone. I’m very sorry.”

You looked away from the family and to Dean, who looked absolutely devastated. He glanced over at you for a moment after glancing over at his brother. When you made eye contact for just that one second, he quickly looked away and opened up the door, disappearing into the night.

\+ + +

You tried occupying your guilt by reading Rebecca’s journal by flashlight, Sam offered it up after skimming through the material himself. You were nearly halfway through, listening to the conversation between Susan and Brian. She was dead set on the idea that her son had met the same fate as her brother, Brian tried his hardest to keep the family together. Kate was quiet, keeping to herself as she paced around. You forced yourself in getting back to reading the journal, but your eyes jumped off the page when you heard Brian speak up. "Do you remember what he said about the girl who lived in the walls? She said he could stay.” You wondered if that’s why she drew the stick figures. You looked over at Sam, curiosity fueling you, but it didn’t help Susan at all.

“No. No.” She whispered to her husband. “I just don’t understand why this happens to us. I mean, we’re good people. We’re a good family.”

“What happened to Andy happened, okay? I cannot change that.” Brian said. You wondered if he was speaking about someone else, possibly another family member that passed away. “But I will find Danny. I promise you. And when I do, we are gonna be fine. You and me, the kids—we’re gonna be fine.”

Brian seemed to have done the trick, snapping his wife back into reality that things might turn out right, only if she remained positive. She looked away from her husband for a moment to look over at her daughter, who was still here, and worried out of her mind. You looked at the family to see they’d gone through enough stress in these past few hours than most people. But they remained strong. Still, you couldn’t help yourself but feel guilty, knowing you could have prevented one of the deaths. And there was no evidence pointing at where their son could be.

\+ + +

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you closed the journal after finishing it up. Susan and Kate were engulfed by keeping each other company, you weren’t focused on that at the moment, your mind running wild from what you read. You weren’t a stranger to dark literary, reading your fair share of books that were strange and taboo. But what you read wasn’t fictional, it was very much real. You looked over at Sam, he gave you a nod, knowing he’d been pretty shocked himself. But you had a clearer understanding of why Rebecca killed herself, and who you were dealing with. Both of you excused yourselves out of the shed to find Dean to tell him what you had found. He was talking to Brian as the both of them stood outside of the house, you called out his name, breaking up the conversation. You lifted up the journal, telling him you needed to talk.

All three of you headed back inside the house, leaving Brian to head back to the shed by himself. When you walked inside back to the family room, Dean asked what you were holding. “It’s Rebecca’s diary. I just finished reading it.” You said. Dean glanced at it for a moment before he was heading back to the closet, shutting them so the girl couldn’t come back for the meantime. “That girl back there—we’re pretty sure she was Rebecca’s daughter. And it’s all she talks about—being pregnant, being ashamed of being pregnant. It reads like a dark version of a V.C. Andrews novel.”

"Geez. Rent ‘Juno’ and get over it.” Dean said, rolling his eyes, thinking for a moment she was being melodramatic. You gave him a look, knowing there was more to the story he didn’t get to hear yet. “Wait—why kill herself after the baby?”

“Maybe because her dad called her a dirty little whore and said he was gonna lock up the baby where nobody could ever see it.” You explained to him, giving him a clear picture of the horrifying life Rebecca was put through. Dean gave you a confused look, wondering why her father would have done such a thing. You told him subtly that he, the scumbag father, had raped his own daughter. “The pig was a little too…handsy with her.”

“Oh, gross.” Dean muttered at what he realized. “So the daddy was the baby-daddy, too?”

“Man was a monster.” You admitted. “Deserved what was coming to him.”

“Wow. A story ripped from Austrian headlines. Humans, man.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You knew what he was talking about, an old headline about a man who kept his daughter hidden away for decades, forcing her into the same terrifying acts. People would never cease to amaze of how disturbing they could get. “So she’s been locked up in this house her whole life?”

“You saw her eyes. Has she ever seen light?” Sam asked, remembering how she scattered away after you flashed light into her eyes. She screamed in agonizing pain and scurried off back into her crawl space between the walls. “She’s barely human.”

“Okay, so, what, then? She’s kept caged up like an animal, and then busts out and ganks dear old dad/granddad?” Dean tried making sense of all this, you and Sam shrugged your shoulders. This was a hunt you’d never experienced before. But you knew it was going to have the same ending like every other. Dean thought otherwise. “Well, can’t say I blame her.”

“I’m sure her life was hell, Dean.” Sam said, unknowingly saying something that was about to offend his brother. “That doesn’t mean she gets a free pass for a murder spree.”

“LIke you know what hell’s like.” Dean muttered at his brother.

You were caught off guard from what he said, you looked up from the journal you were skimming and looked over at the man. You furrowed your brow at what he said. “You honestly think this girl’s gonna be okay? She’s been through hell, Dean. But she’s not coming back as the same person. You and I both clearly know that.” You said. He looked over at you, his eyes narrowing. You paused for a moment to process what was going on. If Sam knew this entire truth, he wouldn’t have tried getting you here. Unless…Suddenly you felt your grip on the book tighten as your voice came out quietly. “Oh my God. You never told Sam, did you? Is that why you’re trying to defend her?”

“I told him what needed to said, Y/N.” Dean muttered at you.

You could feel Sam’s eyes jumping between the both of you, wondering what was going on. You took a few moments to breath through your nose, calming yourself from saying something that wasn’t the appropriate. If there wasn’t a missing kid right now, you would blurt out the truth. But you focused everyone back on the case. “So,” You spoke up again in a calm tone. “Where do we find her?”

All of you were silent for a few moments, trying to think where she could be retreating, it was Dean who figured out where she could be. “Kid’s gotta eat, right?” He asked the two of you. You nodded your head, wondering where he was going with this. “He kept her hidden, locked up. But he had to feed her, didn’t he?” Again, you nodded your head. “I think I know where.”

\+ + +

You stood with your hands on your hips, now in the kitchen with the brothers and Brian, Dean had a theory about the dumbwaiter you previously commented on how it’d been a contraption previously put into all old homes like this. It was sort of like a personal sized elevator, sending things like clothes and dirty dishes through different floors of the home. Or in Bill Gibson, worst father of the decade, he might have used it for other purposes for the child he thought was a mistake after his own daughter killed herself after months of torment through her pregnancy and early years of their child’s life. You honestly couldn’t wonder what it would be like, trapped away in complete darkness for God knows how long, treated more like an animal than human. No wonder why she finally snapped and viciously murdered her father. You could understand for that, but it didn’t justify Ted’s murder the the kidnapping of Danny. She had to deal with the consequences that followed her actions.

Dean busied himself with breaking through the plaster that covered the decent sized hole, probably after Bill decided it was enough taking care of the mistake. He thought she probably would die off from neglect. If he only knew. “He could have kept her hidden down there for years.” You couldn’t help but think out loud, knowing this situation was quite possibly the most disturbing thing you’d witnessed for a human being. “Kept her fed. Nobody would ever know.” Dean broke down the barrier with one more swing, making the familiar whiff of death come creeping into the kitchen, catching Brian off guard. You quickly wasted no time when you took the opportunity to squeeze yourself into the small hole and leaned forward at the drop below. Your fingers rubbed against indents in the wood. As you glanced down to see what it was, you swallowed at the sight of claw marks, probably where she tried her hardest to escape. “Danny!” Nobody answered after you called out the boy’s name for a second time.

“Watch out, Y/N. I’m going down.” Dean lightly pulled you back inside, making you go back into a standing position. Brian protested the plan by stopping the other man, knowing the child that was in danger was his own. “I know that. But I said I would get him. And I will. Let me.”

“Not alone you’re not.” You spoke up. “I’m going with you.”

Dean wanted to protest the idea, but it seemed you already made up your mind, leaning back down at the small entrance to see how you were going to get down there. Since you were smaller than him, you decided to go first. You handed off your flashlight to Sam for safekeeping for a moment as you went backwards into the entrance, sitting down on the wooden edge before you pushed back so you were at a standing position after your arms were tightly holding onto the wooden ladder built into the walls. You sucked in a deep breath before you positioned your feet on either side of where you hands were resting. When you were safe, you reached out a hand for the flashlight before you moved your other foot one side of the wall so you could scale down to the bottom like a ladder. Dean followed down after he saw you made it down to the ground.

You moved further around in the darkness as you crawled around, trying to make sure Dean had enough room to get himself down. You found a small opening she’d used a hundred time and went through it until you were on the other side of the house, now with more space so you could stand up. You stopped for a moment so Dean could catch up, as you waited, your flashlight scanned the room, showing off the familiar scraps of fur pelts from the animals she hunted to stay alive after her father locked her away. But when you glanced down at the sight just a few feet from where you were standing, a sigh fell from your lips when you saw a wooden cross lying on the floor. It was probably Gibson’s way of justifying his actions. But you had a feeling he wasn’t serving time upstairs for what he did, at least, you were hopeful he’d endure what you did in Hell. He at least deserved that sort of punishment.

Both of you went on walking through the bottom of house to see if you could find Danny, but what you stumbled upon was animal bones and the weapons from the Impala. You spotted on of the shotguns after Dean headed forward, he bent down to pick it up, wondering if there was any damage, or at least, bullets. He let out a frustrated sigh when there were no rounds. “Bitch is a klepto.” He muttered underneath his breath. Shutting the gun back together, he examined around to see if there were any more weapons around, luckily enough, he spotted his pistol, fully loaded.

When you knew there was at least one piece of weapon for safety, you and him continued on searching, quietly calling out the boy’s name as you began looking around for anything that might help figure out where he is. When you called out his name for the second time, you stopped at the sound of clothes ruffling and noises coming from somewhere ahead. You approached further until you spotted a small exposed part of brick in the wall, and when you peeked inside, your eyes spotted Danny. Calling out Dean’s name to signal him, you crawled into the small space and reached for the knife you’d been carrying around to cut the binds around the boy’s hands.

“Your dad’s upstairs.” You whispered to him. “Come on.”

You helped him out of the small exposed part of the brick wall, making sure he didn’t hit his head. When he was out safely, you thought the hard part was over. But it wasn’t. “Hurry! He’s coming back!” Danny warned the both of you in a hush tone. Your eyebrows furrowed as you quickly looked over at Dean, who asked who he was. When Danny answered, you knew this situation was about to get a hell of alot worse. “Her brother!”

When he warned you about another sibling, you didn’t see a shadowy figure appear until you saw Dean’s flashlight tumble to the ground, right after he was attacked. Things happened too quickly in the short amount of time. You quickly looked over your shoulder at the entrance above when you saw a thick rope tumble down, Danny needed to get out of here. You nodded your head forward and helped him get to safety. When the both of you peeked upward, Sam’s eyes widened at the sight of you and him. Sam instructed for you to help Danny tie the rope around his waist, him and Brian would pull him up. You frantically did what you were told, making sure the knots were extra secure around his body. When you knew he was safe to go up, you had another problem to take care of.

You stumbled back into the darkness where you tried looking for Dean, who was taking care of another child you didn’t even realize existed. You looked around, all though you heard the sounds, you couldn’t spot them just yet. As you gotten further into the bottom level of the house again, you turned off your flashlight when you spotted them. Dean was on his backside, trying to fight off the boy, and with a losing chance. He dropped the gun somewhere doing the fight and the knife he’d been carrying had taken off him by the boy. He was trying his hardest to fight him off, but there wasn’t much of a winning outcome when the boy snagged the knife, he got ready to swing the blade down at Dean. But it was the sound of a gunshot going off that stopped him. Dean opened his eyes to see the boy was frozen for a moment, his facial expression stretched into complete surprise from the two bullets that lodged into his chest. After a moment, he dropped to the ground, dead from the wounds. Dean looked straight ahead to see you were standing there with your finger lingering on the trigger.

You dropped the gun to the ground when you noticed the boy was dead after you shot him. Dean tried catching his breath after he realized everything was all right for the moment. He dropped his gaze to the ground, thinking that you’d done it out of spite, it was the right thing to do. But he never expected this. He could feel the breath knocked out of him in surprise when you dropped to your knees after coming up to him, your arms wrapping around his neck. You engulfed him into a hug, burying your head into the crook of his neck after you knew he was unharmed. When he realized what was going on, he couldn’t help himself but wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, suddenly feeling at ease again for a brief moment. As if everything between the both of you never happened.

\+ + +

Morning was another cloudy and gloomy day, but everyone seemed to have been breathing in the fresh air from the disaster that unfolded last night. You helped get out what remaining weapons were kept inside the house and boxes back into the moving van after the family was smart enough to take back to the city life. Dean busied himself by fixing the flat tires on the car, as he got to getting the last new one on, you passed him with the remaining guns you’d found in the basement. You handed them over to Sam, who fixed everything up, as if nothing happened. You dusted off the dust from your palms and gave him a small smile, happy that things were finally over. Both of you headed over to the front of the Impala when you saw Susan and Brian come over, wondering how progress was coming along.

“Thanks for the head start.” Dean said.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me you guys don’t like the police?” Brian asked, you gave him a smile.

“Sort of a, uh,” Sam cracked out a smile as he explained the reason. “Mutual-appreciation thing, really.”

The couple nodded their heads, understanding the reason why. Things from last night had ended up with three people dead; Ted, the brother you shot and his sister, after Brian stabbed her to death to save his wife and daughter. Both of them thanked all of you for the hard work you put in that ended up saving all four of them. You shook their hands and nodded your head, knowing it was what you did, and the content you felt after a job well done felt refreshing. You rubbed your hands together when they felt freezing cold. Susan shifted around in her spot, you gave her a worried expression, asking if she was going to be okay.

“No. We’re the opposite of okay.” Susan admitted the truth to all of you. The reason why they moved out here in the first place was because their oldest son had passed away in a car accident. Tragedy struck again for the family, testing them to see if they could survive another battle. And they did. Susan reached out to hold hands with her husband. “But…we’re together. And thank you for that.”

“Of course.” You said with a growing smile. “It’s what we do.”

The couple thanked all of you one more time before returning back to the house. You let out a breath and leaned against the car, watching as the family tried making sense of what happened. But you doubt they ever would. Dean finished the tire and took apart the tools, as he headed for the trunk to put them away, Sam headed forward to you. He stood next to you, with a curious look on his face, he finally asked the question that had been buzzing around in his mind.

“Does that mean you’re staying?”

“Yeah. You can’t get rid of me so easily, Sammy.”

\+ + +

If you were planning on staying with the boys again, you needed to get the rest of you clothes and supplies, like old times. Sam complained about needing sleep after being constantly overworked this past month, the backseat of the Impala wasn’t going to work. So you offered to pay for a room at the motel you suggested the family to stay at, knowing a decent night’s sleep wouldn’t hurt anyone. But when you got there and asked for two rooms, you were disappointed to hear there was only one left due to the busyness of the holidays—a double bed. You weren’t going to search for another room at this time of night, so you gave the motel manager your credit card in return for two sets of keys. You decided to bunk with Sam after you found there was no couch to crash on, and the poor man wasn’t going back to sleep on the floor after he offered. It would be like when you were kids, except this time he was much taller and bigger than you realized. But you would make it work. 

You tossed around in bed quietly as you could, trying your hardest not to accidentally punch or kick Sam in the stomach after you did it a handful of times. This was much more of a disaster than you thought. But both of you ended up making it work an hour after retiring to bed. You let out a small sigh as you settled on your side, you tucked your hand underneath the pillow and listened to the soft snores coming from the boys. As your eyes lingered off the wall, you knew it was a matter of time until you looked at Dean. He always had a strange tendency to sleep on his backside, a small smile spread across your lips at the sight of him peaceful and quiet. From the looks of it he wasn’t having any bad dreams. You decide that it’s time to close your eyes and get some sleep. It’s a few moments before you feel your body starting to finally relax, but Sam’s voice brings you back, fully awake. 

“Dean did tell me.” You twisted around in the bed until you face Sam, who is lying on his backside, looking up at the ceiling. You give him a look, wondering what he’s talking about. But when he puts his gaze on you, it’s easy to see the guilt in his eyes through the darkness you’d become accustomed to. “I just assumed a month was enough time until all of this blew over. Both of you were starting to worry me. I thought if I got the two of you back into the same room things would be okay. But I shouldn’t have lied to you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Torturing souls isn’t what really drove me away. It’s what he did to me down there.” You whispered to him. You tested the waters to see how Sam would react, you wondered if Dean told his little brother all the cruel things he said and done to you. You waited for even more guilt to settle in, but you were greeted with a baffled expression. You were for a few moments, wanting to hear a snore coming from Dean before you admitted the truth Sam hadn’t heard yet. “In order for the torture to stop for him, Alastair asked Dean if he wanted to do it for himself. Obviously he said yes. And for his first time, he was allowed to choose someone.”

Sam tried thinking of who it could have been, he thought for a few moments before his expression dropped. You could see the anger settle into his face when he realized the person his older brother had chose was you. He now understood why you were so scared when you woke up from that nightmare before Anna and your departure. It was because you were dreaming about what Dean had done to you in the pit. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sam hissed underneath his breath.

“That’s why I left. The things he said and did to me down there…He blamed me for everything that happened to you guys. I hated him for so long. And I know I should still. But I can’t.” You admitted everything to Sam, tucking your arm underneath the pillow so you could feel the coldness of the mattress sink into your skin. Something about the middle of the night, when the rest of the world was asleep, that’s when you were at your most vulnerable. “Seeing Rebecca’s kids, how savage and animalistic they were. They didn’t act like that because they wanted to. It’s because they were raised like that. Same way that Dean was told do what he did.”

"I don’t think what happened down there—”

“You don’t understand, Sammy. Alistair has a way with getting what he wants out of you. He’s one demon that even makes me scared just at the thought. I don’t blame Dean anymore. It’s all about adapting to a painful situation. Things don’t get better, we just get used to it.” You said, trying your hardest to explain the change of heart you were having. “Dean torturing souls. You using the demon blood. Me running off like that. It’s not good, and we know it. But we do it because it’s how we cope.” Both of you fell silent as he processed what you told him, you let out a quiet breath. "This doesn’t mean I forgive him. It’ll take time. But after seeing Susan and Brian, after what they went through, I’m hopeful we can get through this. We’ve been through so much more. And, honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him no matter what. Because I know that wasn’t the real Dean. It was the man Alistair wanted him to be.”

Sam listened to everything you had to say. He was beginning to see this entire situation for what it really was. The young man wasn’t going to admit that he was starting to see his brother in a different light. He changed his thoughts to something different before his anger could get the best of him. "Can I tell you something? And you can’t laugh, no matter how pathetic it sounds.” Sam whispered, you curiously looked at him when you saw his lips stretch into a small smile, showing off his teeth. It lasted for a moment before his expression dropped at who he brang up. “When I had Jess, for those two years, I was honestly happy than I was up until that point of my life. I don’t think Dean ever felt that way with anyone like I did with her, not even Cassie. But when the two of you got together, even for the short time, he was the happiest I’ve ever seen him. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I thought if you two worked it out, everything would be okay. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I just want my big brother and best friend to be happy. I want the both of you to experience what I probably won’t ever have again.”

You wrapped the blankets around your body as you let out a faint sigh from what you heard him say. You wanted to tell him he could find someone, but you swallowed down the lie, knowing relationships of being a hunter were rare. He tried with Jess, all though it ended with tragedy. You knew he’d gotten himself hooked on a woman named Madison, while she appeared to be a perfect match, it turned out she was a werewolf. Love was a rare treat for the young Winchester, but your hopes were looking up when you began thinking of a small brunette. “Well, you and Ruby seemed to be getting closer. Her new body is cute.” You remarked, causing the both of you to let out the quietest laugh. You quickly became silent when you heard Dean groan and shift around in bed. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you looked over at Sam again, knowing it was time to finally go to bed before his brother started yelling at you for being loud.

“Good night, Sasquatch.”

“Good night, Shrimp.”

You gave him a playful nudge when he remembered the nickname you and him gave each other way back. You muttered another good night as you turned back around in bed, both of you working on getting comfortable before you finally shut your eyes, falling asleep at three in the morning. After ten minutes, you and Sam were out from the sounds of your steady breathing. Dean popped open an eye, wanting to make sure you were really asleep, and you didn’t realize he heard every word you and his little brother discussed.

\+ + +

A day passed after the conversation with Sam. Everyone had been so focused on getting back on the road, you almost forgotten about the conversation. You were halfway home when Dean decided to grab a bite, stopping at some fast food place for a bite to eat. All of you decided to take a pit stop after driving all morning. You stretched out your legs after Dean found a empty road just above the highway. It was quiet and peaceful looking as you trailed up to the hood of the car, where you pulled yourself upward, your body becoming warm on this chilly day. Sam headed over to you, handing off the food that made your stomach growl at the sight of. You unwrapped the foil and got yourself ready to sink your teeth into the food. But as you glanced up, you took notice that Dean stopped himself, suddenly acting strange as he dropped his burger to the concrete ledge he was sitting on. You gave him a worried expression, asking him if he was all right.

Dean didn’t answer you right away. He shoved his hands into his leather jacket he’d been wearing all day. You stopped and watched him, wondering what was going on with him. After a moment of examining the scenery, he settled his gaze on you and his brother. “You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there.” He said, opening up. “Lifelong torture turns you into something like that.”

You dropped your gaze to the pavement, knowing well enough why he was discussing this. He must have heard you and Sam talking, the guilt had been following around. You let out a quiet sigh and looked up at him. “You were in Hell, Dean.” You said, trying to comfort him the best you could. He didn’t even look at you. “Look, it’s done. And I’ve been thinking. Maybe you did what you did there…but you’re not them. They were barely human.”

“Well, you’re right about that, Y/N. I wasn’t like them. I was worse. They were animals, defending territory. Me…I did it for the sheer pleasure of it.” Dean admitted a small little fact you didn’t think about. You looked at him a bit funny, asking him what he meant. “I enjoyed it, Y/N. They took me off the rack, and I tortured souls, and I liked it. All those years, all that pain, finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn’t care who they put in front of me—I didn’t even feel guilty when I chose you. Because that pain I felt…it just slipped away.” You blinked from the information you were hearing, you weren’t sure why he was telling you this. But you could tell he was guilty for what he’d done, and there was nothing to change what he did. “No matter how many people I save or how many times I can apologize, I can’t change that. I can’t fill this hole. Not ever.”

You weren’t sure how to respond toward this confession. Part of you wanted to comfort him, tell him that everything was going to be okay. But another part of your brain was telling you that it was him who hurt you. He shouldn’t be sitting here sulking. But you never said anything to him, afraid it would be the wrong thing. You didn’t know what laid ahead for the both of you in the near future. At least, for now. But the question remained buzzing inside the back of your mind; where do the both of you go from here? Hopefully only up.


	12. Criss Angel is a Douche Bag.

Another strange death, another case. You walked down the streets of the new town you and the boys were lured into after finding a newsreport of a man dying after being stabbed multiple times, but no signs of actual tearing toward his clothing or trauma in his body. It was like they had just appeared like magic. That comment made you silently chuckle from when you read in the article, which you later found out to be ironic, too, considering the victim was a magician. He might have been an expert with all things dealing with card tricks, but they were silly little mind games, what killed him was much more stronger and powerful. You tucked your hands inside your pockets as you continued on your way down, stepping off the sidewalk and to the streets to head faster to your destination. Everything about this case seemed like it could have gone either way. Someone was holding a grudge out for this guy, playing with a little black magic and a voodoo doll. Or he stupidly got involved with a demon deal and the buyer was feeling a little creative after he wasted his soul for mild fame to trick people with cheap magic.

Of course there’s been a spike in magic over the past year since you came back from the dead. You’d seen a few people become famous enough to do some pretty stupid stunts for fifteen minutes of fame. And one of them so happened to cross paths with you and the boys. You stepped onto the sidewalk and stood on your heels for a moment to see what a small crowd of people were surrounding for along with a camera crew. When you spotted a man roughly about your age, decked out in leather and black eyeliner, you dropped back down to a normal standing position, knowing exactly who it was. He was another douchebag magician from the rest of the others you’d seen. But even you had to admit stuff like this was entertaining to watch.

“This isn’t a trick, okay? I don’t do tricks.” The aspiring magician was holding a deck of cards, probably getting ready to amaze people with some cheap thrill after the help of someone from the crowd, who probably was paid actress to make this look real. Still, you were curious to see how it was going to turn out. “This is a demonstration about demons and angels, love and lust…all that stuff mixed up in my head.”

“What a douchebag.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, causing you to take your gaze away from the man.

“That’s Jeb Dexter.” You whispered, making sure your voice wasn’t loud to interrupt the scene that was about to unfold. As you looked over at the magician to see this trick unfold, you subconsciously felt like someone was staring at you, and when you put your attention back on Dean, he was. You furrowed your brow. “What?”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that, Y/N.” Dean said with a strange expression.

“You know, I do other things than research things on the internet. He’s famous.” You said, rolling your eyes in annoyance before you looked back over at Jed. “Kind of.”

Dean scoffed at what you said. “For what, douchebaggery?”

“No matter how messed up it gets, don’t touch me, okay? For your own safety.” Jeb was explaining something to the crowd about this trick, about how dangerous it could be. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he closed his eyes and took in deep breaths, getting himself mentally ready. Deep breaths turned into grunts, he started changing his act around, suddenly it was like he was having a seizure with his eyes rolling in the back of his head as his body violently shook. He reached his arm up with the deck of cards and began letting them all go to fly through the air. What he said next made you roll your eyes. “Go back to hell, demon!” You looked over at the shop window to see that the ace of diamonds was stuck to the shop window, and after Jed made sure to wipe his hand against the glass to show it was on the other side, he looked at the woman. “Is this your card?”

When the woman nodded her head, the crowd burst into cheers and applause. You and Sam couldn’t help yourselves but feel that little spark of amusement. All it left Dean was feeling aggravated at how stupid all of this was. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. A fake demon possession?” Dean asked. He took one more glance at the magician before he was walking down the street, you and Sam following. “I can’t believe people actually fall for that crap.”

“It’s not all crap.” Sam said, seeming to find it a bit intriguing.

“What part of that was not a steaming pile of B.S.?” Dean questioned his little brother.

“Okay, that was crap,” Sam corrected himself. “But that’s not all magicians. It takes skill.”

“Oh, right. Right. I forgot. You were actually into this stuff, weren’t you?“ Dean couldn’t help himself but bring back up a childhood memory that made him stop walking for a moment. You listened, intrigued to hear where this was going to lead. The thought made a small grin spread across your lips at the sight of little Sammy. "I mean, you had like a deck of cards and a wand.”

“Dude, I was thirteen.” Sam said. “It was a phase.”

Dean looked back over at Jeb, who was getting ready to start another trick for the eager and very ignorant crowd in front of him. “Just—it bugs me. Actually, it offends me.” Dean said, looking back over at you and his brother to explain why all of this was making him upset. “You know, playing at demons and magic, when the real thing will kill you bloody.”

“LIke a guy who drops dead of ten stab wounds without a single tear in his shirt?”

“That’s what I’m talking about, Y/N.”

You nodded your head forward, knowing all of you weren’t going to get anywhere if Dean kept talking. He gave you a bit of a look before the three of you were off again. For the most part everything felt okay, being back on a case, focusing your attention on the problem at hand. You and Dean were taking very small baby steps with one another. And just like as if things were normal, the same rules applied; no relationship talk or mentions of affection, not until the hunt was over. So far, so good.

\+ + +

Margot, the lovely assistant, had been spending most of the morning cleaning up her boss and the endless amount of tools he’d kept on him for years. You watched as she tossed in a few silver rings into the trunk she was filling before bending down to grab a black scarf, crumbling it into a ball before throwing it inside. As she bent down to grab something else from the table, she looked over at you and the brothers, wondering what round of questions were going to be thrown at her.

“So, did your boss have any enemies that you know of?” Dean asked her.

“Vance had plenty of enemies. He would steal from other magicians, all the time.” Margot admitted what her boss would do. As you gave you a curious look, wondering what it could have been, Dean was rather hypnotized from the scarfs she kept pulling out from the bag, wondering when the endless amount of fabric was going to end. “Stage effects, closeup techniques—anything he could get his hands on.”

“Is that enough to get himself killed?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“These guys take this stuff pretty seriously.” Margot explained to the three of you. She’d thrown the scarves into the trunk after rounding them all up. She moved deeper into the pile, tossing over the black cape that was part of Vance’s custom, revealing a little furry friend. Your eyes dropped down to see a white rabbit. She broke out into a smile and picked it up, lightly petting the animal that must have been part of the classic routine of pulling him out of top hat. “There you are.”

Margot stuffed the small rabbit into a safe space for now, she looked up again when Dean asked her yet another question. “Did you find anything weird in Vance’s stuff?” He asked. When he saw what just happened, he corrected himself. “Well…weirder?”

“Matter of fact, I did.” Margot said, nodding her head.

She reached for the cape previously tossed over without much thought. You watched her reach for something in the pocket, showing off the crimson red opposite lining of the costume, but what she pulled out to show the three of you is what caught your attention. It was a tarot card from the height and width of it. Plus the artistic drawing gave it away too. Your face scrunched up with bewilderment when you noticed the drawing was of a man, bleeding on the ground with several swords in his stomach. If you were to take a guess, there would be ten total in his body. Sam reached out to grab the card from the woman, rather taken back himself at what he was seeing.

“I’m guessing this didn’t belong to Vance.” Sam presumed.

Margot shook her head, explaining more to this situation that was making this hunt become even more suspicious. “He hated card tricks. Never wanted them around, let alone in his precious cape.”

You listened to what she had to say, nodding your head before directing your attention to the card Sam was still holding. Out of curiosity you took a moment to count the swords in the man’s stomach. You could feel your lips stretching into a faint frown when you counted all ten.

\+ + +

Sam decided to head back to the motel after discovering a small lead into figuring out who killed your latest victim. You discovered there was a convention for magicians, and out of spite, you decided to check it out yourself, leaving the brothers to do a little research for themselves. But Dean decided to tag along with you, quite curious himself to see what the both of you could find. You talked to a few people around the place to see there was one magician that used tarot cards, an older man who had been around for quite some time. He just so happened to be here with another magician, a fellow friend to help support their own after landing himself another gig for tonight. You and Dean walked through the lounge area to see the show was set up for tonight. Two men were sitting at a table, observing what sight that was lying ahead. You glanced over at the stage to see Jeb Dexter again. He wasn’t showing off a sparkling personality when he ended a phone call that ended badly. Things even got worse when he twirled a finger around for the camera crew from earlier to follow his lead. You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to the two older gentlemen.

“You Vernon Haskell?” You leaned over in your seat, looking over at the one with glasses.

The man barely looked over his shoulder, acknowledge your presence. “Who’s asking?”

“Federal Agent Ulrich and my partner Agent Daniels.” Dean introduced you two as you flashed your fake badges. The two men looked over to glance at them for a moment before focusing their gaze on the both of you to see what this was about. “We’re looking into the death of Patrick Vance.”

Neither one of them could comment on the matter, for everyone’s attention was drawn upwards to the stage to see what was happening to Jeb, and his special guest, the incredible Jay. You leaned backwards in your seat for a moment with a slight smirk spreading across for what train wreck that was about to unfold. “I’m Jeb Dexter. This is Devil Twist. We’re chilling at the international magicians convention, which is a doge chance to tip my hat to the wicked cats who came before me.” So far everything seemed to have been going okay. But Jeb wasn’t that bright of a man, he was going to screw up eventually. “Smokin-hot effect last night, Jim.”

“Jay.” The older gentlemen corrected Jeb, who stared at him with the utmost confusion from what he said. Jay fanned out his deck, showing off skills that the magician probably still couldn’t do quite yet. “My name is Jay.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jed muttered, not giving much of a damn. “We can loop it later.”

“What a douche bag.” Vernon remarked to his friend.

You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes when you felt Dean lightly nudge you in the arm from hearing someone else share the same opinion as him. “Couldn’t agree more.” Dean said to the man with a growing smirk. You took the chance to change the subject, pulling out the tarot card from your pocket and showing it off to the two men. “Is this familiar to you?”

Vernon took his attention away from the stage again to see what you were waving around in his face. He looked at the tarot card for a moment before glancing up at you. “Should it be?”

“Well, I heard that you used tarot cards in your act.” You said, drawing back your arm.

“My act? That was a long time ago.” Veron said, letting out a chuckle from your sentence. You weren’t finding his first impression rather helpful. But he proved to be not what he was when he held up his hand, showing off his unsteady grip with a shaking hand. “I haven’t touched a deck in years, you know.”

You gave him a fraction of a smile, “Do you know someone that might use them now?”

“Well, there was a guy down on Bleecker street.” Vernon said.

“Oh, right.” His friend jumped into the conversation, seeming to have found some information that might have been useful for you and Dean. “He peddles that kind of speciality stuff.”

“Did he have a problem with Vance?” Dean asked.

“Matter of fact, Vance crossed him about a year ago.” Vernon explained, turning around ever so slightly in his seat to tell you. “Probably cost him fifty grand in royalties.”

“You know the exact address?” You asked them both. You tucked away the tarot card and reached for the small notebook you’d carried around. Luckily they gave you one, which you’d shortly jotted down. You looked up from the paper when you heard the friend tell you both to ask for chief. But you weren’t going to question it, knowing it was probably some stage name he liked to go by. You gave them both a smile. “Thank you.”

Putting the notebook back into your pocket, both of the men gave you a smile back, watching as you and Dean got out of your chairs before heading for the exit. As you disappeared from their sight, both of them broke out into mischievous smirks, knowing what laid ahead for you.

\+ + +

You couldn’t help yourself but look at the notebook with the address just one more time, silently wondering if you and Dean were heading in the right direction. Both of you started in the center of town after exiting the convention with dawn settling in. But by the time you and him got to Bleecker street it’d turn to night time. You let out a small sigh when Dean pointed down an empty alleyway, sketchy from the sight of it, even though there was not a single soul around except for the two of you. When you heard the sound of a siren going off in the distance, you looked over your shoulder, wondering if it was coming near you. When you heard Dean call out your name, you knew he was getting impatient, wanting to get this interview done quick as possible.

The two of you continued down the street, cautiously eyeing that you passed. When you saw the neon red numbers showing off the building, you looked over at Dean, you shrugged your shoulders, knowing this had to be the right place. From the outside it was rather intimidating, steel door with bars and fencing around it. Dean pounded his fist against the door. You crossed your arms over your chest and scanned the area once more. When the door finally opened, you were expecting someone like Jeb Dexter, gothic and rude, to answer. But you were a little bit shocked to see a guy, blonde and rather normal looking, staring at the two of you. He gave you both rather cautious and confused looks as he eyed you back and forth.

“We’re, uh,” Dean spoke up, feeling odd from what he was about to say. “Here to see Chief.”

The guy took one more look over at the both of you before he was swinging the door open, not saying a single word. You stepped inside and followed him down to a staircase, leading you two down to a lower level of the building. You took the last step off the staircase and trailed behind, looking around at the walls to see they were covered in graffiti as you heard a distant bass from music coming from another room. You stopped walking when the other men did. “Stay here.” The guy instructed. “And don’t touch anything.”

When you saw the guy start walking away, back to the staircase, you couldn’t help yourself but give Dean a suspicious look, not sure how you were feeling about this place. He nodded his head and cautiously eyed the basement level floor, not sure about what the hell you and him were about to get into. Both of you looked straight ahead when you heard the door creak open, a flood of fluorescent light came from the other room. You squinted your eyes ever so slowly to see a dark figure standing for a moment, that was, until he started moving ahead. This, this wasn’t what you were expecting ever to see in your entire life. The man standing in front of you and Dean wasn’t who you were expecting. You eyed the leather pants and vest he was wearing, topped off with a leather hat. You weren’t judging what people did in their free time or how they made their money. You just didn’t like it when mistakes effected a case. And this was a very big one.

“You are really gonna get it tonight, big boy.”

You quickly pressed a hand against your mouth to keep a laugh come bursting out from your mouth. Things about this night were only getting better when you noticed what all of this place was about. You looked over at Dean, who looked absolutely mortified when he realized what was going on, and who the man was thinking from across the room. Couple dressed in conservative clothing and heading to this kind of place downtown. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” He managed to get himself to speak. “We’ve, uh, think we’ve been had.”

“Oh, you ain’t been had…till you been had by the chief.” The infamous chief himself said, making it even harder for you to take this situation seriously. But in this kind of situation, safety always came first. “Oh, and before we get started, what’s your safe word?”

You couldn’t help yourself anymore. When you noticed the tint on Dean’s cheeks were turning a deep shade of red you’d never seen on him, the slightest noise that sounded like a laugh escaped your throat. He gave you a death glare, thinking if looks could kill, this would be your last memory on earth. Instead he settled on roughly grabbing your wrist and yanking you to the staircase where the both of you left quick as you came in.

\+ + +

“Come on! It wasn’t that bad.“ You followed behind the oldest Winchester, a grin spreading across your lips as you tried keeping up with the man. He stalked forward with almost a permanent frown stretched across his lips from the trick that was pulled on the both of you, and the endless amount of laughter you’d gotten out of it. For someone like Dean, who wasn’t a shy man when it came to mature activities, he sure ran faster out of there with cheeks burning bright red. You swore he’d turned into a nun from how prudish he was still acting. You and him were long gone from Bleecker street, now heading inside the convention after making a quick call to Sam after finding your league was completely bogus. You swallowed down another laugh when you stepped into the auditorium and spotted Sam standing near the bar, overlooking the growing crowd. You headed to him, giving him a small smile after breaking his concentration away. “Find anything interesting?”

“What?” Sam asked you. He looked at you for a moment, wondering who was speaking to him, but when he saw that it was you and Dean, the man shook his head and took his mind off the conversation he had with Ruby before coming here. “Uh, no. What about you guys?”

“Nothing I want to talk about or think about ever again.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion, he tossed you a look, wondering what you and his brother encountered. You shrugged your shoulders and dropped the conversation at that. You looked around the room to see most of the place was filled with guests wandering around the room to get a good spot for the show, but you spotted the two older men you’d spoke to earlier. You patted the brothers on the arms to signal what you found before heading up, deciding to confront them both on their little practical joke. Neither one of them noticed the three of you walking forward, deep in conversation, it was your heels against the floors that finally signaled your presence. You gave them a smirk as you placed your hands on your hips. "The chief, huh?” You asked them. “I gotta say, not bad for a couple of old geezers.”

“What’s the matter?” Vernon’s friend, Charlie, asked with an amused expression. You noticed he wasn’t still dressed in what you saw him in earlier. He was now stressed in a tuxedo, with a straight jacket draped over his shoulder. “The chief not your type?”

Dean let out a chuckle, pretending to go along with this little joke for another moment until he decided to threaten them. “You know, I could have you both arrested for obstruction of justice.”

“How?” Vernon asked. “You’re no fed.”

“We con people for a living, son.” Charlie said, taking notice of how Dean’s face dropped at what his friend mentioned. “Takes more than a fake badge to get past us.”

Sam nervously pulled at the collar of his dress shirt as Dean let out a chuckle, you dropped your eyes to the ground, obviously thinking of how you should have seen this one coming. All three of you tried to come up with a little white lie to cover up your tracks. It was Dean who managed to think fast on his feet, coming up with another cover that seemed just about right. “You got us. Yeah, we—we are actually…aspiring magicians.” Dean explained. He stumbled a little bit, but he managed to catch himself. You felt him place a hand on your upper back side to make this cover even better. "And Y/N here is our lovely assistant.”

“Yeah,” Sam said with a nod of his head. He managed to continue on with this little lie. “We came to the convention ‘cause we thought we could learn something.”

“Yeah, get some ideas for our new show.” Dean added even more to the lie. Vernon looked at him with a curious expression, he shadowed the young man’s hand gesture as he asked what kind of show it would be. “Well, it's—it’s a—”

“It’s a brother act.” You said, giving him a smile when he looked your way.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean said, liking the sound of this cover that was coming along nicely. One of the good things about the boys was that they were quick on their feet, lying came naturally to them. But sometimes they needed an extra little detail before everything went downhill. “You know, with the rings and the doves…and rings.”

Sound of applause from the audience erupted through the place as the lights from above began to dim, singling the show was about to start. Everyone took their seats as you looked over at the stage, waiting for the main act for tonight to come out on stage after the announcer introduced the Incredible Jay, who so happened to have been the gentleman Jeb Dexter was interviewing earlier today. “You want to learn something?” You glanced away from the stage and to Charlie when you heard him speak. “Stick around.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to witness is a feat so daring, so dangerous, even the great Houdini dared not attempt it.” Jay introduced himself with a small monologue as he stood front and center on stage. You looked away from the man and to the strange contraption from behind, you wondered what was going come out of tonight. He gestured out an arm to the trick he was going to perform tonight. Charlie quietly headed to the stage with the straight jacket and to Jay. “I give to you…the Executioner!”

Jay gestured out an arm as the noose from a secret contraption fell below, now hanging above the platform. The audience burst into small murmurs as Jay picked out a man from the audience from the crowd to help him get fastened tightly in the straight jacket to show he was properly. Now standing on the platform with the noose around his neck, the man tugged on the last restraint and made sure it was tightly secured. “Now, sir, as you can see, this jacket is the real article.” Jay said, tugging at his new bounds to show everyone he was restrained. “Thank you, sir. You may take your seat.” You crossed your arms over your chest as the man nodded his head, jumping off the platform and heading back to his seat as Charlie headed forward, pulling at the curtains to give Jay privacy for what was about to begin. “Now I will have sixty seconds to escape certain death. Let’s see if I can do it.”

Everyone fell silent as the lights dimmed when Charlie pulled on the curtains, the only sight of Jay was now a shadow from the spotlight from above. The clock above started off. You watched as his shadow tugged and pulled at his restraints, showing all of you this wasn’t for pretend. For the most part it was going as expected, leading the audience to bite their lips and lean forward in their seat, wondering how this was going to end. You were thinking it was going to be like any bogus act you’d seen. But as the clock was starting to tick down to fifteen seconds left, you could feel your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “I don’t think he’s gonna make it.” You whispered, looking over at the boys for just a second. All of you were fixated on the sight, suddenly wondering if this wasn’t a trick at all. You glanced back at the the stage, right at the moment when time ran out, the buzzing sound loudly echoing through the place as the bottom of the platform fell out from above.

A sharp gasp of surprise escaped your throat when you saw it happen, thinking for just a moment you’d witness an accidental death. But a second later you watched the curtains rip open. Jay stood there with a grin on his face and the straight jacket hanging off his index finger. Everyone jumped up from their seats as the roar of applause erupted in the place. You dropped your hands to your side, your mouth falling open from what you’d witnessed.“Oh! That was amazing!” Dean couldn’t help himself but say, taken back at the sight. “That was freakin’ amazing!”

Sam didn’t seem to be fascinated with the magic trick as you or his older brother was. He’d seen a lot of things in his life, and for someone who’d enjoyed magic tricks, he knew the secrets people did. Even Houdini himself always had a secret escape. When he heard the magician himself didn’t dare do it, he knew something was off about it. “That was…” Sam narrowed his eyes at the man on the stage. “Not humanly possible.”

\+ + +

You were in the brothers’ motel room the next morning with your nose buried deep in a book. You laid on your stomach while occupying one of the beds with your head resting in your palm, your other free hand reached out to turn the page of the dusty book you were reading to figuring out how Jay managed to pull a trick like that. Dean was sitting on the opposite bed, skimming through a few books as Sam was at the small table with his laptop. Most of you worked in silence for a few minutes of different task you decided to take. You weren’t getting very far, Sam luckily managed to find something about Jay and his motive of doing what you were suspecting.

“Looks like this guy Jay was a pretty big deal in the seventies.” Sam said, reading what information he had found on the magician. You and Dean looked up from your own research, the older asked him what it meant in magician land. What you heard made your eyebrows arch up in curiosity. “Big enough to play Radio City Music Hall.”

“What got him suck in their ‘Where are they Now’ file?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged his shoulders, the magician got booted just like any other person in the entertainment industry. He got old. “Okay, so maybe Incredible Jay is using real magic to stage a comeback.”

“It’s possible.” You said. You shut the book you were reading and pushed yourself into a normal sitting position.“I’ve been thinking. He could be using some kind of spell that works a death transference. Sort of like what happened with that one healer and his wife. But I don’t understand how the tarot card mixes into this.”

The brothers shrugged their shoulders, seeming to think a possible connection in black magic might be what you were dealing with. You reached out to grab another book from the other side of the bed, but your attention loomed upwards when you saw Dean get up from the bed and head for his brother, it was his comment that you were hooked on. “Man, hope I die before I get old.” Dean muttered to the both of you. “Whole thing seems brutal, don’t you think?”

You never really thought about growing old, not even when you were younger, back when you still didn’t even think about hunting. You were always alone, so maybe it didn’t quite bother you as much as it did until now. But here you were, suddenly wondering what life was going to be like in your forties, wondering if you and the brothers still going to be hunting. You wondered if you and Dean were ever going to grow old together, have a chance for a slightly normal life. To be able to live in your house with them, quietly living together as you all hunted. Maybe things would change. You wondered for a moment if you were ever going back to get the chance of having kids, giving them a life after this world seemed a little less scary. You rubbed your stomach at the thought.

“Do you still think we will?” You asked him. Dean looked up from the tarot card he was examining to stare at you, he wondered what you were getting at. “Die before we get old.”

“Haven’t we all already?” Dean asked, you gave him a look.

“You know what I mean, Dean.” You said, rolling your eyes. You dropped the book to the bed and pushed yourself up to your feet and headed over to them. “Do you guys honestly think we’ll still be hunting demons when we’re sixty?”

“No, I think we’ll be dead.” Dean admitted the honest truth. You softly scoffed at his answer you didn’t want to hear. Part of you wanted to hear him say that he’d see himself going down to hunting part time. When this looming darkness of the apocalypse was gone, he wanted to settle down with you, balance a life of hunting and somewhat happiness. But you knew it was never going to happen. Happiness never followed any one of you. “What, Y/N? You want to end up like Travis? Huh? Or Gordon, maybe?“

”Don’t bring that man’s name into this conversation. Gordon was messed up long before he was hunting. And Travis was a sad, lonely man.” You said, trying to win this argument. You thought of someone you could use to help validate your thoughts. “There’s Bobby.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s a poster child for growing old gracefully.” Dean remarked.

You let out a small sigh when Dean headed back to the bed, seeming to find this argument never ending. You wanted to agree with everything he was saying. There was nothing in this world that would change your mind about hunting. But there was drawbacks about this lifestyle. It wasn’t that you couldn’t sleep in your own bed or constantly traveling around the country, not even the danger that was growing in the background. It was because you couldn’t balance being in a relationship with Dean and be professional at the same time when you were working on a case. You were giving yourself whiplash from how you were thinking. One minute you hated the man, now you were thinking about growing old with him. “Maybe we’ll be different, Dean.” You said.

“What kind of kool-aid you drinking?” Dean asked you, making you look away from him. You crossed your arms over your chest as he stared at you for a moment. “Y/N, it ends bloody or sad. That’s just the life. You should know that by now.”

“I know, I know.” You muttered to him. "Forget I even said anything.”

You knew the conversation was officially done after this. You walked over to the bed and plopped yourself down, focusing your attention on the new book you were grabbing before all of this spiraled out of control. Sam quietly closed his laptop screen, seeming to understand what you were trying to say. He turned around in his seat to face the both of you. The conversation he had with Ruby, about Lilith and the apocalypse, still was running through his head. “What if we could win?” Sam asked a question you weren’t expecting to hear. You looked up from the book and gave him a slightly confused look, Dean repeated after his brother. “If there was a way we could just…put an end to all of it.”

“Is there something going on you and Y/N aren’t telling me?” Dean asked the both of you.

You gave him a confused look, not sure what this conversation was about now, Sam quickly managed a no. But his brother wasn’t falling for it from him. He gave the young man a look. “No. Look, I’m just saying,” Sam tried explaining himself to the both of you as he got up from the chair and headed forward. “I just wish there was a way we could…go after the source. That’s all. Cut the head off the snake.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about banishing all sort of evil off the face of the earth, or the looming danger of the apocalypse. Whatever it was, Dean was right. “Well, the problem with the snake is that it has a thousand heads. Evil bitches just keep piling out of the volkswagen.”

Sam listened to what his brother had to say, and while it was a bitter pill to swallow, the man was right. He was right about everything. He nodded his head, mumbling an agreement with his brother. You glanced down at your book for a moment or so. “Sammy, why don’t you go see if you can track down Jay?” You asked him, pushing yourself up to a standing position and headed over to Dean, snatching the tarot card out from his grip. “Mr. Pessimist and I will see what we can dig up on this tarot card.”

You gave Sam a small smile, knowing the both of you had admitted a few things you’d been clutching to you for a while. He unfolded his arms and returned the gesture before heading to the table again to fetch his jacket. You returned back to the bed with the tarot card in your grip. You watched him from the corner of your eye as Sam grabbed his jacket and slipped it on before heading out the motel door, leaving you and Dean alone in silence. You tried gathering the courage to speak about what you were thinking earlier to him, but you never got the courage. The truth was a bitter thing you didn’t want to think about right now, or ever again.

\+ + +

Another trick, another dead body. You leaned against the cold metal railing as you watched the cops pull out a gurney with the body of Jeb Dexter tucked away, a growing crowd of bystanders and hotel workers gathered around in the halls, wondering what the commotion was about. You learned about the news only a half an hour ago after scrolling through some newspaper articles, becoming distracted from research, finding yourself sucked into reading the many reviews of the magic show you saw last night. It was when you went to the homepage of the local newspaper page was when you saw the headline of another magician dead. You and Dean didn’t waste anytime to see what was going on. On the way down you made sure to call Sam, breaking him away from stalking an elderly man that was starting to look more like the only suspect. You looked over your shoulder to see Sam was stepping inside the hotel lobby just as the officers were walking out, he looked around until he spotted you and his brother.

You pushed yourself into a standing position when he headed over, giving you both a curious look, he wondered what was going on. "Maid found Jeb hanging from the ceiling fan. Police think it was a suicide. We beg to differ.” You said, looking over at Dean when he pulled out the tarot card from his pocket. The tarot card was of a man hanging from a tree, the connection was easy to make. Sam examined the card for a moment, asking if you found on his body. “Yeah. We’re thinking if this spell is a death transference, then these cards work like black-magic targets.”

“Any connection between the victims?” Sam asked, wondering this could have been premeditated.

“Jeb was a total douche bag to Jay yesterday.” Dean said, giving some motive of why he might have been a target. Sam nodded his head, but he wondered about Vance, how he was connected to all of this. “Y/N asked around. Apparently, Vance was heckling Jay at the bar the day he was killed.”

"Okay, so Jay sneaks a card into Vance’s pocket, does the table of death…and Vance takes ten swords to the chest.” Sam said. He let out a chuckle from the connection was he seeing. “Then Jay slips a noose and Jeb doesn’t. Hell of a trick.”

“Yeah, I think it’s time we had a little chat with Jay.” Dean said. “Any luck tailing him?”

Sam fell silent as he licked his lips, "He slipped me.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a laugh, thinking the young man was joking about the matter. When he stared at you with a serious expression, you slowly stopped, and soon, you were looking at him with disbelief. “He’s a sixty-year-old, Sammy.”

“He’s a magician, Y/N.” Sam argued back at you.

You raised a brow, wondering if that could have been the cause of how easily the man gotten out of Sam’s sight. But you let the conversation drop at that, knowing Jay had another show tonight. And if you were right about him targeting other magicians to let him rise toward the top, it meant someone else was going to die tonight if you didn’t stop it.

\+ + +

You peeked your head out from the hallway after you heard footsteps turn quiet after the sound of someone shutting their hotel door. You and the brothers followed Jay after managing to find him again after he stopped by the convention to speak to a few people about the show again tonight. When you saw the hallway was absolutely quiet from any other guests, you stepped forward and waved your arm, directing the brothers forward. The three of you stood at the end of the hall one more time to see if anyone was around, and when it was finally clear, all of you headed off. You counted down the numbers on the door before you spotted the one Jay had gotten into. It took a little white lie to find out what room number he was staying in. You heard the sound of the safety on the guns the brothers were holding go off. When you cautiously looked around just one more time, Dean decided to take the element of surprise, and with one swing of his foot, the hotel door went flying open, catching Jay off guard.

“Up against the wall!” Dean yelled the command after he stepped inside the room first, his drawn forward and finger lingering on the trigger. He cautiously headed forward as Sam followed behind. You took more sweep of the hallway to see that nobody had come out from their room to see what the commotion was about. You slam the door shut best as you can, giving you all privacy. Jay is still standing there with his hands up in a surrounding motion, looking like a deer caught in headlights at what was happening. “Now!”

“We know what you’ve been up to.” Sam said, Jay looked at him with bewilderment.

“You been working some real bad mojo to jump-start your act.” Dean added.

“What?” Jay asked, his tone full of confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, we know you put a spell on those tarot cards.”

“Messing with real magic?”

“Real magic? Come on, there’s no such thing as real magic.” Jay said. He couldn’t help himself but let out a nervous chuckle from what he was hearing right now. None of you were falling for this little act, still, he was trying to make you all understand he was the wrong person you were looking for. “Believe me. I’ve been around this stuff my whole life. It's—It’s illusions. It’s tricks. It's—It’s all fake.”

“Jed Dexter strung up—was that just an illusion?” You questioned him, wondering if he was telling you all the truth. Jay looked over at you, his face paling when he asked you what happened to him. When you told him the police found him hanged in his hotel room, the man might have been a good con artist, but nobody could fake the absolute surprise after hearing someone they knew passed away. You’d seen it so many times during this line of work. You wondered if he wasn’t lying to you as he tried pleading to get out of here alive. You wondered if he was good at faking things, or if he was genuine about not knowing anything. In a quiet tone you said, “Something’s not right here.”

“Y/N’s right.” Sam whispered. “Usually they’re whipping some badass hoodoo at us by now.”

Dean narrowed his eyes on the man, “What do you want to do?”

You weren’t going to let Jay out of your sight, that was for sure. He might have gotten you fooled enough into thinking he could have been an old grandpa washed out years before, but now making recovery by a sweep of good luck nobody would have expected. He might have been the best thirty years ago, and he might have some tricks still left up his sleeve, but it didn’t explain the two dead bodies with a cause of death that was eerily similar to the acts he was pulling on. Not to mention the tarot cards. You eyed him from the corner of your eye, now tied to a chair, you looked away and back to the brothers as you turned your back to Jay.

“All right, so,” You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at Sam when he spoke up in a hushed tone, making sure the only people that could hear was you and his brother. “If it’s not him, who is it?”

“Even if Jay’s not working the magic, he’s still getting the reward.” Dean pointed out. “His shows are selling out.”

“Whoever it is, they’re obviously in Jay’s corner. Someone close to him might be who we’re looking for. Only thing that really makes sense.“ You said, thinking that could be the next lead of investigating. "That leaves us Vernon and Charlie to start with. Anyone else?”

The brothers went silent for a few moments, unfortunately neither one of them could think of anymore names of faces they’d seen around with Jay. Sam let out a breath, deciding to suggest an idea that only seemed logical to do. “We could always ask him.” Sam said, shrugged your shoulders, thinking it might have been worth a shot if the man thought it could have gotten him out of this situation scott free. When you turned around to face the older man, still tied in the chair, your shoulders drooped as a sharp sigh fell from your lips. Jay was gone, as if he’d vanished into thin air.

“Guess we should have seen that one coming.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath.

You were now understanding how Sam managed to lose track of this man after following him around for all that time. The three of you searched every single empty closet and space on the floor to see if Jay could have been hiding around. But he was nowhere to be seen. You followed behind the brothers as you rushed down the staircase to the lobby of the hotel, thinking he might have tried blending into the crowd, or calling the police for help. You jumped off the last step and frantically searched around the lobby, wondering if Jay was here, but all you were seeing was strangers and other guests casually roam around the place. Sam couldn’t help himself when he let out a frustrated sigh of annoyance, thinking he’d let the man out of his sight for the second time today.

“Maybe he vanished.” You said, looking around at the lobby. “I mean, he really is good.”

Sam scoffed, “Or he found a back door.”

You weren’t in the mood to hear his pessimism right now, your mind was tracking down every possibility of how he could have escaped. Magicians have been known to vanish into thin air. And Jay was getting pretty good at doing tricks most people would have faked, or died trying. But there was something else about magic tricks and faking them, there was always a back door you never saw. Footsteps pounded against the staircase as a familiar face popped out from hiding. Jay came down just in time to see the cops, that had been here not even an hour ago, were back again after getting the call of a disturbance from one of the guests. You didn’t realize Jay made the call. And you were the disturbance before it was too late.

“There!” You quickly looked over your shoulder to see Jay was rushing down the staircase, pointing a finger at you and the brothers as the cops came rushing into the lobby. Your face dropped into a panicked expression from what you realized what was happening. “Those are the three nut jobs that just broke into my room!”

Part of you was hopeful that somehow you and the brothers could manage your own great escape without the cops realizing it was you, taking a little longer than necessary to pick you out from the growing crowd. But luck never had been a friend of yours. Instead you were stopping in your tracks and slowly lifting your hands up in defeat when you heard the commands coming from the two officers. You meekly turned around on your heels and faced them.

\+ + +

You and the brothers spent the rest of the morning and late afternoon in a jail cell, waiting for the booking process. It seemed with the convention being in town and all these strange deaths happening, it’s been stretching the police a little too thin. You were thinking of all the possible charges that could be thrown against you for a few answers. All of you could have talked to him a bit more privately, or at least cornered him. You thought of mostly every single possibility. But all of that died right down when you got released from jail after sitting in there until the night dropped. You thought it was for booking, turns out the slightest amount of luck was following you. Jay dropped the charges. And he wanted to talk to you about how his act was somehow killing people. Maybe it was the death of his friend, Charlie, that changed his mind about everything.

You sat on a bar stool, watching as Jay nursed his drink you’d gotten for him after he told you about what happened after performing the Table of Death, flawlessly again. He thought it was just a streak of good luck. What you told him about Jeb Dexter and Patrick Vance wasn’t enough of a warning that his acts were killing people in his place. It took the death of his friend to open up his eyes. But you weren’t telling him I told you so with the wounds and grief still so fresh.

“I was just a kid when we first met. All I knew was how to cheat at cards. Charlie got me out of more scrapes that I can count.” Jay recollected on the memories of his friends, it gave him the smallest tug of a smile at the ends of his lips. But you could see it turn back into a frown when he realized the man was dead. He brought the drink up to his lips, taking another sip before he continued on talking. “Hell, I would have been dead by the age of twenty if it hadn’t been for him. He was more than my friend. He was my brother.”

“I’m sorry, Jay.” Sam said, sympathizing for the man.

“Look,” Jay tried apologizing after finding out he was wrong. “I should have listened to you guys when you told me that my show was killing people.”

“Well, you weren’t the one pulling the trigger.” Dean said.

“Yeah, but someone did, and I want to find out who did this to Charlie, so I’ll do whatever you guys say.” Jay said. He was jumping into a nonexistent plan with both feet. You let out the faintest sigh as you looked away for a moment. It was good to hear his cooperation, and all though it was pretty late, he was your only key into finding out who was causing all of this. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Jay, whoever’s doing this…they like you. They’re probably close to you.” You said, speaking softly from what you were about to ask. “Did Charlie and Vernon get along?”

“No.” Jay answers you a second after you speak. Your brow scrunches up, not sure if he is saying no to the answer, or if he denied at the assumption Vernon could have been a suspect. “No, it’s not Vernon.”

“I know this is hard. But,” You tried your hardest to get him to change his mind. “He’s the only one that makes sense. Charlie and Vernon were your family, Jay. And Charlie’s gone.”

The three of you weren’t happy to be going after someone Jay was close to, but it was how the situation was handled. People have to be held responsible for their actions after it lead to such disastrous consequences. “See, the thing about real magic is it’s a whole lot like crack.” Dean said, trying his hardest to explain what was going on to Jay. “People do surprising things once they get a taste of it.”

Jay let out a frustrated sigh, “You better be damn sure about this. Vernon’s all I got left.”

\+ + +

It took one convincing phone call from Jay to lure out Vernon from his hotel room. You quietly stood behind the wall and waited for him to leave, signaling his departure by the way he slammed the door shut and locked it shut. It took a few more moments of waiting before Sam peered down the hall to see if the sight was clear, the nod of his head told you and Dean yes. Sam unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing a sight you weren’t quite expecting to see. You pushed open the door further and snuck yourself inside, your eyes wandering over the amount of stuff Vernon kept in his room. There was all sorts of objects and trunks around the room, demanding your attention to see what it was.

“Wow.” Sam muttered, his eyes roaming around the place. “It’s like…magic museum.”

“You must be in heaven.” You said. You couldn’t resist teasing him when he looked down at you with an annoyed glare, you gave him a smile before returning your attention back to the task at hand. “This guy doesn’t travel light.”

“He’s been on the road his whole life.” Sam said. “Probably everything he owns is in this room.”

“Well, means we’ve got a lot of crap to go through.” You said. “Let’s get started.”

The three of you split up and took different parts of the room, wondering in all of this junk Vernon kept lugging around, there was something you could use to help figure out if he was the guy you were looking for. You shuffled through endless amounts of papers and overturning all sorts of strange objects one would need for a magic show. But you weren’t finding what you were looking for. You let out a frustrated sigh and toss back a book you’d skimmed through, even shaking out the pages, hopeful for some kind of secret compartment, but nothing came out except for a bookmark that seemed harmless enough.

“This is just a bunch of old-timey magic stuff—none of it magic.” Dean grumbled.

“No herbs, no candles, and no tarot cards.” Sam sighed out in frustration.

Sam continued on poking around inside the bag he’d found, but none of it seeming quite useful. You directed your attention back down to the bed you were standing next to, the only thing that was lying on top of it was the book you’d shaken down and a handful of old posters of past magicians. You shuffled around a few of them, none which really caught your eye, until a young face popped out at you. You furrowed your brow and pushed away some papers until you uncovered the one you were looking for. The Great Dessertine Magician was the title. It was of a man standing at a side, holding what appeared to be a human skull. But it was the somewhat familiar face that made you take a double take. “I’ll be damned.” You muttered underneath your breath. The brothers looked over at you when they heard what you said. You turned around the poster and let them decide for themselves if you were hunting down the wrong person. It was the birthmark on his upper eyebrow that gave it away. “Look like anyone we know?”

\+ + +

Faking your own death, that was a new one for you. Charlie might have been a smart man, living way past his expiration date thanks to some spells he picked up during his time as a magician that allowed him to learn immortality for however long he pleased. He even gotten himself wrapped up in a friendship with Jay because he saw potential for greatness after he lost his touch a few years back, seeing this convention as a way for him to rise back to the top. He probably didn’t care about the casualties, picking off people he thought were a nuisance to Jay. But you wondered why he didn’t kill Vernon instead of himself if he didn’t get along. Maybe it was because they were really family, despite not agreeing or bumping heads. Charlie wanted to start over with people he’d spent his entire life with, and the best way to do that was ending his old self.

Any human being would do just about anything to be young again, wrinkles and sagging skin weren’t desirable. And it meant they were going to be dead soon. If some were vain enough, they might sell their soul for beauty, others would kill to live for however long they wanted. Charlie was proposing a deal to Vernon and Jay, giving them a bigger show on the stage of the auditorium that was bigger than the little flimsy dinner theatre Jay had been playing over the past few days. The man looked young again, probably no older than his late twenties, and healthy. This might have been a heartwarming scene you and the brothers stumbled onto, but it wasn’t going to end with them running off into the sunset young again.

“Not so fast!” Dean shouted, breaking up the sight that was happening right on stage. Jay and Vernon turned around after hearing his voice echo through the room, but their attention was drawn to the guns all of you were carrying at your sides for your own protection. “I ain’t Guttenberg and this ain’t ‘Cocoon.’”

Jay and Vernon were smart enough to scatter away when they saw the three of you heading up on stage. Dean waved his gun, ordering them to back away further from Charlie, who stood there with a smug little smirk on his face. You knew he wasn’t afraid, with all of his little tricks hiding up his sleeve, but you had something he didn’t. And that was a loaded gun. “Immortality. That’s a neat trick.” You said, taking slow steps toward him.

“It’s not a trick. It’s magic.” Charlie corrected you. You narrow your eyes at him, frustrated with the way he takes a step back and his smile is growing wide. Dean thought he could take the man on, but that seemed to have been the wrong move, not knowing what the man was capable of. He took a giant step forward to go after the man, but he was stopped dead in his tracks when the sudden appearance of a noose slipped over his neck, and tugged him forward into the air. You quickly snapped your head forward to see Dean was hanging above, his face growing red as he struggled to get himself out. Without even thinking, you drew your gun first before Sam could and took a shot straight at Charlie’s head. You pulled the trigger, thinking it could have been enough to stop him, only it was like poking at the beast. Your eyes widened when he simply caught the bullet between his teeth, his grin evidence enough before he spit it out into his palm. “Hey, bullet catch—been meaning to work on that.”

Sam wasn’t afraid of what the man was capable of, he lunged first at him, thinking he could take the man that was smaller than him, but Charlie wasn’t done showing what he was capable of. All it took was one snap of his fingers before he disappeared, making you blink and frantically look where he could have ended up. It took a second before you saw him again, leaning against the table of death, he winked at you when you spotted him first. “Let him go—now!” You hissed at him, quickly drawing your gun back up at him as Sam went over to him first. “Or I swear to God, you’re in a world of pain.”

“Just leave me and my friends alone.” Charlie said, his hands going up into a defensive position as Sam pointed the gun directly at his chest. You scoffed, shaking your head at his pitiful attempt of bargaining out of this. “All right, I will give it up—the spells, the hexes. This is the last time. I promise. There’s just one more trick I gotta see.”

You didn’t have a good feeling about what he was suggesting at, and while you were thinking Sam was going to be in trouble, you got ready to shoot him again for the hell of it. Before your finger could press down on the trigger, Charlie snapped his fingers, somehow making you vanish from sight. Sam put his guard down for just a moment to peer over his shoulder, taking notice that you weren’t anywhere near. Before he could get any answers out of Charlie, the man had one more trick up his sleeve. He grabbed ahold of Sam by the collar of his jacket and threw him toward the table. Before Sam could get himself free, the restraints locked into place, keeping the man there. Charlie took a step backward and watched as the first part of the rope that was keeping the metal spikes above from snapping and crushing the man pinned below. While it was amusing to see both hunters, one strung up and almost blue in the face while his brother fought of the metal bounds, all he had to do was turn around and peek backstage for the grand finale that was supposed to be for tonight. Charlie had a new act planned out for Jay, something Houdini had been known greatly for, and since his act was growing, the magic had to get better and bigger.

What was hidden behind the thick red velvet curtain was a glass tank that was no higher than just about seven feet tall and a width just cozy enough for someone of Jay’s size to fit perfectly inside. The person performing the trick would be lowered into the tank with their feet cuffed above. They would have whatever amount of time it would take to get themselves free. Perfect trick to see someone risk their chances of drowning. It was first empty after arriving early this morning, but now it was filled to the brim with water, Charlie smirked to himself at the sight of you swimming around like a goldfish stuck in a small glass bowl. He heard the faint lock click into place from above, sealing you into the small confinements, his smile grew even more.

You didn’t realize what was going on at first. It was all sort of a blur, like you’d blacked out for a moment before your surroundings changed in a blink of an eye. The first thing you took notice of was how quiet it was and how effortless you felt, like you were floating. Or falling to your death. You opened your eyes and took a gasp of air, finally subcomming to your surroundings. When you tried to breath, nothing came, your lungs suddenly burning with a familiar ache as you frantically moved your arms around. Your eyes quickly shut when you realized you were in water, swimming aimlessly through a strange place. You somehow thought you were in a swimming pool, Charlie snapping his fingers and making you land in the opposite side of the hotel. But you could feel a rush of panic spread through your body when your hands and feet roughly smacked against something smooth. You patted around in the darkness, feeling only something cold and hard press against your skin. This time your eyes snapped open when you realized what was going on.

No, no, no. You frantically screamed at yourself inside your mind when you patted around at the confined area. You couldn’t breathe, the burning inside your lungs was getting worse with each passing second as your heartbeat kicked faster into gear. You forced yourself into looking up, a small sliver of hope settling inside your mind when you saw a possible way out of this. You swam toward the top, legs kicking as your arms frantically waved about, trying to get yourself to the top. There was something about this that was making you all sense of control. You were shaking and shivering, not to the freezing temperature you were swimming around in, but the thought of drowning. You got to the top and put your palms against the top, using all your strength you could muster up, you pushed for a way out of here. After a moment of pushing, it wouldn’t budge. Maybe you weren’t trying hard enough, so you did it just one more time. You forced yourself into using all your power, all though you swore for a second you felt it move, but it wasn’t enough. You found yourself slowly sinking to the bottom once again, darkness swallowing your vision whole.

Charlie had the audacity to stand there and smile at what he’d done, thinking for a moment he’d won his friends over into living forever, one less group of hunters to track them all down. As he turned around to face the brothers that were a string away from death, he didn’t realize his own friend he’d been trying to convience was about to stab him in the back, or the stomach for that matter. Charlie felt a sudden sharp pricking pain in his lower abdomen and a rush of warm blood touching his palm when he rested it against his stomach. He looked over at Jay, who was standing there with a solemn look on his face, and a dagger in his side where Charlie was bleeding. He pulled out the dagger to reveal the blade was perfectly clean, thanks to the tarot card Jay had kept hidden in his pocket, he’d managed to make himself into a human voodoo doll, directing the stab to Charlie.

“Jay,” Charlie spoke the man’s name with a whispered tone as he dropped to his knees, the blood pouring out faster than he could keep from clotting. With his free hand, he pulled out the card, he swallowed when it was the magician. “You picked these strangers over me?”

The man didn’t answer. Jay didn’t want to do it, but it was the right thing to do. He forced himself into looking away when he watched Charlie dropped dead to the ground, the tarot card falling from his grasp. Dean dropped to the ground with a painful thud as Sam could feel the metal restraints become loose, letting him roll out of the contraption before he could get himself killed. Sam sat on the edge and watched his brother catch his breath, throwing the noose across the stage floor and coughed whatever air he’d been missing into his lungs. His little brother asked if he was all right, almost forgetting all about you, until it was the first thing out of Dean’s mouth.

You weren’t very far, just beyond the curtain and tucked away backstage. There was an old trick Houdini used to do, Sam remembered what it was called, the Chinese water torture cell, made famous by Houdini himself. Instead of you being struck up by your feet, you were sinking to the bottom, unresponsive toward the voices calling out your name. Sam dragged a chair he’d found across the floor so he could reach the top after he noticed an opening. He pushed himself on top and examined around to see if he could find some sort of latch to get this open. But he couldn’t, and time was running out. Dean knew there was another possibility of getting you out of there, but it’d be messy. And he’d take that chance. Dean drew out his gun that was stashed away in his pocket, and without warning his brother, set off two shots into the glass, watching as it made small spiderweb cracks. A second later, the entire backstage flooded with water.

Through the broken glass and inches of water, you laid on your backside, soaking wet and unresponsive to the attention coming your way. Dean dropped to his knees and examined what life you might still have left in your body. He pressed his ear against your chest to hear the faintest heartbeat slowing down from the lack of oxygen you’d been given. For a moment he could feel like this situation was almost similar to what happened before, the reason you’d gone to Hell with him after the small taste of death he’d brang you back from. You’d been so adamant about taking his place, selling your soul to make sure he wasn’t going to go down there. He didn’t want to make the same mistake again of seeing you die because of him. You had done so much for him. And look at how he’d repaid you. Dean was about ready to lose himself in the dreaded thoughts, but it was the sound of your frantic coughing that sent him straight back into reality.

You inhaled the deepest breath you could manage, filling your lungs with the sweet air you’d been deprived of before coughing up whatever remaining water that was inside your lungs. You didn’t know what was going on for a moment. All you knew was that you were freezing cold and shaking like a leaf. You didn’t know if it was the familiar lure of death knocking at your door, or it was because your worst fear indulged itself again. Some people were afraid of flying in planes or people dressed up in clown costumes. With your breathing still heavy, you managed to get yourself into reality again, the relieved faces of Sam and Dean made you realize that everything was okay.

\+ + +

You weren’t able to sleep after you gotten back to the motel, your mind restless from what you’d gotten yourself into. But you managed to put on a brave face the next morning, dressing and going about the day like nothing was wrong. You and the boys deciding to visit Jay before departing back on the road. It took a bit of hunting down and speaking to a few hotel employees before you tracked him down at the bar, nursing a drink and keeping himself occupied by shuffling through a deck of cards. From the looks of it, he was handling this situation worse than you, all though, you didn’t have to kill your best friend to save three strangers. You gave the boys an uneasy look, wondering if this was the right idea. Dean nodded his head forward, knowing well enough this would be better in the long run, no matter how much it was going to feel like ripping off a band aid. The guilt would subside eventually and all you would get on with your lives.

“Hey, Jay.” Dean said, speaking up for the three of you. The old man kept his concentration on the deck of cards fanned out over the table, but after a moment of silence, he finally glanced up at the three of you. “We wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday.”

“I killed my best friend, yesterday, and you want to thank me?” Jay questioned all of you. All though his voice was quiet, you could hear the pain and frustration in his voice, the small chuckle he let out when he spoke the truth didn’t help make you feel any better, either. You looked around, trying to find a conversation to help ease the tension that was threatening to fall.

“Where’s Vernon?” You asked, hopeful for a positive answer.

“Oh, he’s gone.” Jay answered you with a negative response that wasn’t making you feel any better about what happened "He said he didn’t want to speak to me again after what I did to Charlie.”

“Listen, Jay…you know Charlie was never gonna give up what he was doing. Ever.” Dean said, trying his hardest to make the man feel better about the hard decision he was forced to make for the greater good. “You did the right thing.”

“Are you sure about that? You know, Charlie was like my brother. And now he’s dead. Because I did 'the right thing.’ He offered me a gift and I just threw it back in his face.” Jay couldn’t help himself but hiss the final words at the three of you. He waved around the deck of cards he’d been fooling around with before slamming them to the table. He got up from his chair and downed his drink in one sip. “So now I have to spend the rest of my life old and alone. What’s so great about that?”

Nothing. You dropped your gaze to the floor when he walked passed the three of you, his eyes throwing daggers at the bitter ending to his life everyone had always feared. A waitress came over with a smile, taking notice of the abandoned deck sitting on his table. “Jay,” She called out to the man. “Your cards.”

“Throw them out.” Jay mumbled, waving off the waitress.

Her smile faltered when she watched the man walk out the door, not even giving her a goodbye. You let out a heavy sigh and crossed your arms over your chest, feeling uneasy from the fragile state you’d left the man in. Sometimes doing the right thing was the worst thing in the world. You hated when hunts went this way. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but,” Your eyes wandered up to Dean, who was trying his hardest to make you all feel better. “I could go for a beer.”

“I’m gonna go take a walk.” Sam said, seeming to need some fresh air from the look on his face.

You nodded your head, understanding if he needed some space from everything that happened, leaving you and Dean alone after he took a step outside to the cold air. There was a few seconds of lingering silence before you looked over at Dean. “First round’s on you, Winchester. I’ll go grab us a table.” You said, lightly patting him on the chest before heading to a reclusive spot. When you walked away, Dean could feel the slightest smile tug at the end of his lips, thankful for a moment alone with you. Even if it was awkward and pointless, he would take it.

You took a spot in the corner of the bar, away from the small crowds of people that was beginning to grow as the time on the clock was drifting to six. Dean came back a minute later with a beer for him, and your favorite drink for you. Giving him a mumbled thank you, he took a seat across from you and took the first swing. “I ordered us some dinner. Hope that was okay.” Dean said. “Cause I’m starving.”

“When are you not?” You asked him, the smallest smile tugging at the ends of your lips. You made patterns in the wetness of drink, trying to gather courage of starting a conversation you’d been dreading for over a month now. It was the elephant in the room, demanding attention from one of you. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said I could never hate you for what you did, Dean.” The unexpected turn in conversation made the man freeze up from what you were saying. He didn’t expect this to turn into the topic of Hell so quickly. You could see the guilt creep into his eyes, thinking you were going to tell him something worse. You shook your head, giving him something that had been gnawing at your own conscious. “I can’t say I hate you because I really don’t. And I kind of understand why you did it. You were down there because of me—what selfish mistake I made.”

Dean knew what you were talking about, the faulty deal with Lilith you made right before the both of you were supposed to kick the bucket. He remembered how much he used that as ammunition to fuel his desire. It was one of his few weak points Alistair used on him, poking at it until he gotten the man to break. Thinking back, it always made a lump grow in his throat. “Y/N,” Dean spoke your name as he took his gaze off the table to look at you. “Don’t, please. This isn’t your fault.”

“I know. It’s both of our fault.” You said, giving him a response he wasn’t expecting. You inhaled when he looked at you with a bit of a funny expression, wondering what you meant by that. “I should have told you this right after we got out, but I couldn’t. When…When Lilith was possessing me, it wasn’t like how Sam was, I could fight her off. I did for a few hours. Maybe it was because of, well, you know what. I knew I could have for a lot longer. I should have fought harder so you could live. But I didn’t. I gave up. So what right do I have for you getting angry at me and lashing out? None. I probably would have done the same thing if this was reversed. We both did things because, like you said, we’re each other’s weak spots. And they knew it. We were stupid enough to let them use it against us.

You gave him a warm smile, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours, letting you feel his familiar warm and calloused skin against yours. "But I’m not gonna give them the satisfaction to show them what they did. I know we can grow from this.” You said with a quiet voice. “I love you, Dean. And I know for a fact I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing will change my mind on that—and no matter how long or short it is.”

"Are you proposing to me, Y/N?” Dean asked, letting his nervousness turn into humor.

“I’ve got something better in mind.” You said, drawing back your arm from him. You stood up straighter in your seat and looked at him straight in the eye. When you put your hand out in front of him, like you were expecting to shake hands, he raised a brow, wondering what was going. You might not be proposing to him for a life long relationship, but a fresh start would be best. “Hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m twenty seven years old. I enjoy quiet nights in and handsome men with a terrible sense of humor.”

Dean didn’t hesitate in shaking your hand, giving you a flirtatious smile that made your stomach flutter with the same butterflies that had been gone for too long. “The name’s Dean Winchester I’m an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women.” You could feel a smile tugging at the ends of your lips when he played along like you hoped. But he wasn’t done trying to win you over. “If you don’t mind me being forward with you, but I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”


	13. After School Special

High school; the good, the bad, but most of all, it was the ugliest time for someone. It was the near end of grade school before being shipped off to college, with hormones still raging and teens trying their hardest to get through a day with all that angst running through their minds that were already racing with other important thoughts. You understood that a lot of kids were mean, having a brush with a few bullies yourself through your years of school, mean girls and boys who liked to trip people in the halls, it was never pretty. Sometimes people took it, others couldn’t keep quiet for very long until they lashed out. April Bennett was one of those students. What turned to have been one little remark aimed at her body, directed from another student going through a rough patch herself from friends, it seemed April was angry enough on Friday to bash the girl’s head into the bathroom mirror before dragging her into the stall, drowning her in the toilet. Some might have called it dramatic, April denied ever putting her hands on the girl. Her alibi was that she couldn’t have done it because she was possessed—she was there inside her body, but not being in control fully of her actions. She thought it would have been enough to get her free of charges. But it wasn’t.

The alibi landed her in the mental psych ward over the weekend, and your attention after reading it in the local newspaper after arriving home all in the same day. It took a few hours of research for you and the brothers to be convinced that you had a case here, right in your own backyard. With everything going on, demons roaming free and the world slowly coming to an end, you weren’t surprised to hear something like this happening. But you weren’t sure yet if there was a demon having fun at your old high school, or if this was some dramatic attempt April was trying to squeeze herself out of after letting her temper get the best of her. Her school records and squeaky clean past made you believe she was just another quiet student, not capable of doing such a heinous thing. You tried getting her side of the story. Posing as a hospital worker, you thought it would take just a little bit of effort before she would tell you the story she’d been spilling out to the cops and the psychologist assigned to her case. Both of you sat at a table by the window that overlooked the third floor view of the hospital grounds, April answered your questions with a blank stare and several eye rolls.

“I’m not talking about it anymore.” April said with a defiant tone. She sat with her full attention at the window, her head was resting at her palm as she leaned forward in her seat. She’d been like this for the past few minutes with no signs of change. “I already told the cops and doctors. No one believes me. They think I’m crazy.”

“Well, I’m a little bit more open-minded than most.” You reassured her. You put your hands on the table and folded your fingers together, giving your full attention to her so she could see you were invested to hear her side of the story. Her gaze shifted away from the window for a second, she eyed you from the corner of her eye. “April, why did you tell the police you were possessed?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She muttered, shrugging her shoulders.

“It matters to me.” You said to her with a soft tone.

April shifted her head ever so slightly to you to see you were staring at her with a serious expression, the kind of face that made her seem to finally break down the walls she’d been building up since you’d talk to her. She dropped her hand to the table and twisted around in her seat so she was sitting directly across from you again. It was a moment before April spoke up, telling you her side of the story of what happened. “When I—When I hurt Taylor, I was there, in my head, but I couldn’t control my body.” She explained the situation of what happened, making you pounder to believe what you were hearing could have been true. “I could see what I was doing, but I couldn’t stop. I just wanted it to stop.” April soon realized what she had admitted, and how your expression changed. She tilted her head down to the table, letting her hair fall into her face when she recollected on the memories once again. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” You said, hearing her sniffle a few times before looking back up at you. You gave her a moment to compose herself before you went onto another reason of why this might have not been a case to look into. “April, some of the kids at school told the police that you and Taylor didn’t get along.”

“Well, yeah, but I never wanted to kill her. Never.” April protested, suddenly becoming defensive at what you were almost trying to imply. “Do you believe me?”

“Yeah, I do.” You said. Your answer caused her to be filled with relief once more, she exhaled a breath, nodding her head as if she was trying to calm herself down before you continued on this conversation with her. “Just a couple more questions. On the day this happened, did you…happen to smell anything?” Your question threw her off. She looked at you a bit funny, wondering what you were looking for. “Like rotten eggs—or sulfur?” April tried thinking back to over the weekend and recollected on in the bathroom could have any smells that stood out from the ones that were already there. But she ended up shaking her head no. You tapped your fingers on the table for a second, knowing what you were about to ask was going to be the real hit or miss. “Um, this is going to sound bizarre, but just answer the best you could for me. Did you happen to notice any…black smoke?”

April blinked, thrown off from your question that she wasn’t expecting to hear. You thought it was because she thought it was all in her mind from what she saw. But that wasn’t the case. She was looking at you like you’d grown a second head. Obviously it wasn’t hard for you to figure out it didn’t happen. “What are you, crazy?” She asked, her brow furrowing in absolute bewilderment.

\+ + +

The answer to your question from April was a big, fat no. You stepped out from the hospital and took a moment to stand on the concrete steps, overlooking the parking lot for a moment as you tugged on your jacket. When you spotted the Impala still in the same position as you left it back over an hour ago. You started walking down the steps, knowing the boys weren’t probably going to be all that pleased you’d took so long trying to get information out of a teenager. You wanted to see them subtly pry out information from a fifteen year old girl. Well, you thought about that one for a moment, you were once a teenager, and if someone like Sam or Dean asked you to spill any secrets you might have, you probably would. There was something about them people seemed comfortable and safe around. Maybe it was because Dean was still a teenager at heart, and Sam was the most empathic one out of all of you. Both of them balanced each other out well.

You walked up to the Impala and opened up the backseat door, slipping yourself inside the familiar spot and slammed the door shut after you, hinges squeaky and car shaking about from the foreign weight added in the back until it adjusted back to normal. You moved a few stray hairs out from your face, Dean asked you how it went up there, eager to find out all the information you learned through your hour long absence. “I think she’s telling the truth. I mean, the way she was talked about being there mentally but not psychically—kind of sounds like demonic possession to me.“ You admit to them. Your words cause each of them to to react differently about the information, but it’s Dean who mentions the slip. "She didn’t see any black smoke or smell sulfur.”

“Maybe it’s not a demon.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, kids can be vicious.”

“Well,” Sam seemed hesitant himself to be backing out of a case premature. He knew what teenagers were capable of. Back in high school, he was a scrawny and smart kid, the bully’s dream target. Sam wanted to be content with the idea of leaving this case as what it was and enjoy a few days off. But it was his conscious that was pushing for more, just a chance to see if this was just kids being kids. And not a demon having some fun with someone’s emotions. “I mean, we’re already here. Might as well check out the school.”

“Right. The school.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He looked straight out the windshield, the smallest smile spreading across his lips, but it wasn’t from the happy memories at school. You wondered what was he was trying to get at. “Truman High, home of the Bombers. And our very own Y/N Y/L/N, graduating class of ‘99.”

“What’s your point?” You asked him. “Besides making me feel old.”

“I don’t know. I mean, Sammy and I went there, like, for a month a million years ago. And I’m sure you didn’t have the most pleasant time there, Y/N.” Dean said, acting as if he was trying to convince you both about changing your minds. “Why are you two so jazzed to go back?”

“We’re not.” Sam argued with his brother. “I just think it’s worth looking into.”

“All right, well, what’s our cover? FBI? Homeland Security?” Dean asked, letting himself get involved with a hunt he knew was only going to last for a day. All of you could play dress up and roam around the halls of highschool, soak up the teen angst and recollect on the memories. You let out a quiet laugh from his last suggestion, trying to take this conversation to a lighter direction. “Swedish exchange students?”

“Leave that part up to me.” You said as you leaned back in your seat. “I’ve got an idea.”

Dean was tempted into wondering what you had planned for the three of you, but he never asked, wanting to be surprised at what plan you’d had hidden up your sleeve for the case. Turning on the engine, the familiar rumble from the engine kicked up once more, helping guide all of you out of the hospital parking lot and back to your house. You’d wanted a few days of relaxation from hunting, enjoying the final moment of peace and quiet inside your own house before trading it for the motel rooms and constant driving on the open road. But you couldn’t help yourself when taking the case back at your old high school, knowing things were much different now than they once were all those years ago. Back in the day, you didn’t know who Sam and Dean Winchester were. Sam was just a nameless face you’d passed in the halls, and Dean was a boy who only knew how to get on your nerves. And you had no idea what trouble was lurking in the darkness.

\+ + +

November, 1997:

Monday mornings were the absolute worse. You rubbed the back of your neck, hoping the painful headache that’s been bugging you since the early hours in the morning would go away. You were blaming it on the cramming for today’s exam in English and the essay which took you longer than you thought. One month into the school year and you were already drowning in homework assignments. You took your gaze away from the blurry sight of kids walking down the sidewalk that were walking to school on this sunny morning and to your mother who was sitting in the driver’s seat, going on about having to stay late at work. Something about open houses, you nodded your head, pretending to listen. It’s not like you were going to throw a massive party and invite the entire school just because she was working until eight. She’s been doing this since she first started teaching when you moved here at four. You weren’t dumb enough to do anything that stupid. You’d probably rebel by eating dinner in the living room after you finished your homework.

“Is your head bothering you still, sweetie?” Your mother stops at a red light to take her attention away from the road. Her expression falls into concern when you answer with a nod. She reaches a hand off the wheel to press it against your forehead. “Well, you’re not warm enough to have a fever. Maybe it’s from all the reading you’ve been doing and not sleeping enough. You need to start going to bed earlier.”

You know it’s not because of the handful amount of novels sitting on your nightstand, mostly Stephen King books you found at a garage sale your friend’s family was having over the summer. It’s because your mother pressured you into taking a few senior classes this year so you can make room for more challenging ones for your last year in school before going off to college. You would just about anything to get into a good school, and you’d loved a good challenge. But sometimes the expectations from your mother were too much to keep up with. You keep your opinion to yourself and look out the window, watching as the school comes into view.

You lean forward in your seat, your eyes scanning the front steps to see the normal faces of students you’d passed in the halls. When your mother parked, you spotted a very familiar face pop into your sight when she came walking up to the car after she spotted you pull up. A smile spread across your lips as you grab your backpack, opening up the passenger side door, you’re greeted by your best friend and the autumn breeze that battles with the heat coming from the car. You try to slam the door, but your mother calls out your name when you almost leave without saying a goodbye to hear. You rolled your eyes and bent down to give her a formal goodbye.

“Bye, Mom.” You said, giving her a smile. “I love you and I’ll see you tonight.”

“I left you money for takeout on the fridge. Don’t start your homework too late—And don’t eat in the living room, Y/N.” Your mother somehow is always one step ahead of you. She gives you a look when your face falls for a moment. “I love you sweetie. And have a good day at school girls!”

You give her a final goodbye as your friend gives a wave, trying her hardest not to snicker at what happened. You step back and slammed the car door, your mother drives off back down the street to her teaching job at the Elementary school. You and your friend stand there in a moment of silence, that was, until the both of you spot an unfamiliar car passes hers. Your face scrunches up with confusion when you notice that it’s an older model, a black Chevy that stands out from the other cars parked around here. Your friend lets out a whistle, rather impressed from the sight, you laugh and mention something about getting out of the street before getting hit. You and her talk mindlessly as you pass the car, catching up about what happened during the weekend. You step on the sidewalk, your eyes drop to the license plate, noticing it was from Kansas, the same state you lived before moving here when you were younger. Before you can spot who was sitting in the passenger’s seat, your attention was drawn back to your best friend.

You listen to her story about something that happened at a house party you weren’t allowed to go to, listening to the gossip she’d been holding in since Saturday night. You nodded your head and stepped into the front entrance of the school, but you can’t help yourself and stop for a moment to look over your shoulder. You spot two boys you’d never seen before talking just across the way. The smallest one was probably a freshman, prepared for his first day with a backpack that looked to have weighed as much as him. You guessed they were brothers when the taller one turns around to follow the other boy when he started walking to the front entrance. You move aside when you saw him coming your way and headed for the principal’s office. As you look forward again to catch a glimpse of his brother, you didn’t realize he somehow snuck up on you until he was standing right next to you. A small gasp of surprise escapes you from how he managed to walk without a sound. He quietly chuckled to himself at your reaction.

"Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare ya, sweetheart.” You snap your eyes open to see that he’s tall, tall enough to be towering over your frame. You notice that he’s dressed in clothes that seem a little baggy him, paired off with a leather jacket that seems like it was dragged through stress. But as you look up to examine his face, you see that he’s looking at you with a smirk. You give him a small smile, wrapping your hands around the strap of your backpack. “Mind tell me where the principal’s office is? But your name would be even better.”

“Down the hall and to your right.” You said, pointing a finger into the hallway.

You don’t answer his question when you hear your friend’s voice calling out your name, she waves a hand when the bell for homeroom starts ringing. You give him another smile before you turn on your heels, catching up with your friend as the both of you disappear from sight. Dean stands in the high school entrance for a moment, his attention kept on the way you walked away without even giving him a second glance. He wondered what this two weeks were going to come of, and if he was ever going to get the chance of seeing your face again. Because there was something about you that seemed familiar to him. But Dean couldn’t put his finger quite on it.

“Oh my God.” Your head turns to your friend when you catch up with her, not giving you a chance to take another look at the boy. She cranks her neck so she can take a good look at him, her lips stretching into a frown. “He’s soooo hot. Did you catch his name?”

“No. He just asked me where the principal’s office is. No big deal.” Your friend mocks your words with an eye roll. You look over at her before the both of you step into your classroom. “What? He’s not my type.”

Your friend can’t help herself but roll her eyes once more, not sure how someone like you could brush off a boy like that. You and her head inside the classroom to take your assigned seats before the morning announcements can start. Both of you talk once more for a few minutes as the room starts to fill up with more students that are either trying their hardest to wake up or finish up their assignments. Nobody seems to notice someone new is going to be joining homeroom this morning until the teacher clears her throat, dragging everyone’s eyes up to the front of the room. You quiet yourself down and look up to see what your teacher wanted, as your eyes glance over at the boy standing next to her, your friend lightly elbows you in the side as she starts smiling.

“Class, say hello to our new student, Dean Winchester. He’ll be joining us this morning.” The teacher announced the new student, finally giving a name to the face. You watch from the corner of your eye as your friend, and many of the other females in the class, lean forward to take a look at the new senior. “Dean, is there anything you’d like to tell us about?”

“Not really, sweetheart.” Dean says, taking his first impression a little too lightly.

The teacher frowns at what he said to her, ordering him to take a seat as she shook her head in disappointment when the class broke out into a quiet fit of laughter. You rest your head against your palm and look away when you see him start heading down the classroom and in your direction. Dean was assigned a seat right behind yours for this morning before he could have gotten assigned a permanent homeroom. When you hear the legs of the chair scrape against the floors, you look over your shoulder to make eye contact with Dean one more time.

\+ + +

Everything about this morning seemed to have been perfect; you woke up in your own bed, feeling rested for once in your life and the warm embrace of someone sleeping beside you in the same bed. You could feel a small smile spreading across your lips when you heard the faint pitter patter of light rainfall hit against your window and the soft breathing coming from the other body. You twisted around in bed, dragging the comforter close to your body until you were staring at Dean, whose eyes were half hooded and lips stretched into a lazy smile. It started off innocent enough last night, talking about the covers you’d gotten for the three of you at the high school after talking to a few old family friends. You’d gotten the cover as substitute teachers for you and Dean, Sam was unfortunate enough to be posing as a janitor.

Dean was here to continue on the conversation about the hunt as he helped bring your bags from the trunk, being a gentleman before retiring to the couch downstairs after his brother called for the guest bedroom you’d already set up. But one thing lead to another, a little kiss soon turned into a makeout session like a couple of teenagers. It’d been such a long time since you or him did such a thing. Both of you rolling around in the sheets, enjoying the moment until you realized it was midnight. You decided it would be fun to have him sleep in your bed for the hell of it.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Dean greeted you with a gruff and rumbling voice, not quite awake himself. But he seems alert enough to lean forward and capture your lips against his, giving you a small peck before pulling away. You reach out a hand to rest it on his chest, your fingers brushing against his anti possession tattoo. “Wish I could wake up every morning like this. Next to your beautiful face.” You can’t help yourself but roll your eyes, giving him one more kiss before you’re pulling away, knowing you have to get ready for the long day ahead for the three of you. "Hey, I heard Sam leave this morning.”

“Yeah. He decided to head out early so he can take a sweep of the school before anyone else can get there. We should be leaving in the next few hours.” You said, slipping out of bed and heading for the bathrobe you’d laid out over your reading chair. You hear him get out of bed after you from the sounds of the floorboards squeaking, but you don’t realize he’s trying to sneak up behind you. “I’m gonna take a shower. There’s breakfast downstairs if you want.”

You reach over to grab the bathrobe and drape it over your arm, standing there for a moment in the silence, you are caught up in your thoughts, wondering what you could wear for the first day of school. You don’t seem to notice Dean is standing behind you until he snakes his arms around your waist, making a small gasp of surprise escape you. He chuckles and rests his head against your shoulder, making his breath tickle the shell of your ear. You could feel a smile spreading across your lips when he starts singing a very familiar song. He’d been humming it all night when he’d gotten the chance to bug you. And it sounded like he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

"Oh wow, man. What do you think the teacher’s gonna look like this year?” Dean quietly sings the infamous song in your ear. When he speaks the my butt part, you squeak when he slapped your ass. “Teacher stop that screaming. Teacher, don’t you see? Don’t want no uptown fool. Maybe I should go to Hell, but I’m doing well. Teacher needs to see me after school.”

You can’t help yourself but let out a quiet laugh, seeming to enjoy this side of Dean, he seems to be in a rather good mood. For a rare moment in time you forget about the hunt ahead, or even the past few weeks between the both of you. It was like nothing happened. You can feel his hands snake down to your hips, gripping the edges of the shirt you’d stolen from him last night. “I think of all the education that I missed. But then my homework was never quite like this. Ow, got it bad.” Dean continues on as he unexpectedly turns you around, making you feel dizzy before he grabs you. A smirk spreads across his lips. “I’m hot for teacher. I got it bad, so bad. I’m hot for teacher.”

“Okay. This is cute, Dean. But we gotta—”

Before you can finish your sentence, Dean silences you with a kiss, knowing there is plenty of time before school starts. You can feel yourself slowly melt back into his embrace, the bathrobe you were once holding slipped out from your grip as you wrapped your hands around his neck. You can’t help yourself but thank your past self for giving Sam the job, he was gone, leaving you and Dean home alone. You feel yourself being pushed somewhere before the back of your knees brush against the bed. For a second you open your eyes, Dean effortlessly tossed you onto the sea of bunched up comforters, making you giggle for a moment from what was going on. “Little girl from Cherry Lane, how did you get so bold?” Dean sings on, you watch as he joins you on the bed. “How did you know the golden rule?”

You can’t stand it anymore when he tries singing the rest of Hot for Teacher, you push him flat on the bed until he’s lying on his backside. You take your opportunity to straddle his waist, bending down to capture his lips into a passionate kiss. If someone were to tell you twelve years ago you would be enjoying a moment like this with Dean Winchester, a boy you’d encountered once again when you were sixteen, and barely said a word to for almost a week, you’d probably laugh in their face. Your feelings for him them were so foreign and baffling. But you know for sure, at this very moment, you’d loved this man with every fiber of your being. And…you were going to be late for your very first day back to school.

\+ + +

“My name is Ms. Y/L/N and I will be your substitute teacher for today.” You dropped the piece of chalk from your hands and dusted off the excess, turning around on your heels, you nervously swallowed when you stood in front of the tenth grade English class you would be teaching today. You gave them all a bright and friendly smile when some students looked over at the board, their attention lingering over to what you wrote. It was your name, then the dreaded words of an exam they knew what was coming. “Your teacher is out sick with the flu for the rest of the week. Since it was a bit short notice, I am filling in for her until she returns. Unfortunately this still means we are continuing the exam on Lord of the Flies today.”

The entire classroom let out a bellyaching whine about the essay questions being thrown at them, even though their teacher had told them about it a week in advance before. You gave them all a sympathetic look, knowing how much you always hated taking exams. You walked over to the desk and picked up the large packets she had made for you this morning after you arrived to school a few minutes before your first class was going to begin. “I know, I know. But you have today and the rest of tomorrow to finish this if you can’t get what you need done.” You said, explaining the rules she had set up. You walked over to the first row of students and picked out five packets before dropping it down to him, nodding your head for it to be passed back. “If you have any questions you might have, I’ll try answering them the best I can. I’ll be up front of you need me.”

You handed out the rest of the packets until there was nothing left, you wished them all the best of luck before returning to the desk right in the middle of the room. You sat down and reached for the torn out copy of Lord of the Flies the teacher kept hidden in her desk so you could keep yourself occupied. It was one of the few books you’d remembered reading in school, the context of it was too hard to shake off for yourself. You ran a finger down the crease of the book when you got comfortable in your seat, you were about to read the first sentence of the novel, but before you could, there was a light tapping at the door. Furrowing your brow, you glanced up to see who was behind the thick wooden door. You noticed the familiar shaggy brown hair when you glanced at the small window overlooking to the empty halls as Sam.

You placed your book face down and got up from the desk, you told the class you’d be stepping out into the hall for a moment. "If I catch anyone of you cheating when I get back, it’s an automatic failure. Got it?” You waited for the silent nods before you stepped out into the hall, letting the door loudly slam shut. You created down your dress and looked over at Sam, your attention lingering on the hideous uniform he had to wear. “Oof. You look like Hannibal Lecter in that outfit.”

Sam rolled his eyes from your remark, he subconsciously tugged at the navy blue button up he’d been wearing all morning. “Looks like you’re really getting into this, Y/N. It’s cute. Never seen you get so into a job like this before.” He teased, you gave him a dirty glare after you peeked inside the classroom to see all of the students were quietly working. You gave him a look, wondering what he wanted. “Been around the school once. But I didn’t find anything. What about you and Dean?”

"Didn’t have time. We accidentally overslept.” You said, squeezing in a small little white lie. “This is my first class. But after this, I plan on taking a sweep of the school myself.”

Both of you agreed on meeting back up after this period was over, making him go back to the janitorial duty and your classroom that was just the same way as you left it. You settled yourself back at your desk after taking a quick sweep of the room, happy to see everyone was staring at their own papers, quietly scribbling down their answers. You reached for the book and started reading the first chapter, the silence comforting you into slipping back into the fictional world.

\+ + +

With your first class officially wrapped up and the third period started ten minutes ago, you were free to roam the empty halls without a disturbance. Your heels quietly clicked off the tiled floors, watching as the needle of the EMF reader didn’t bounce back and forth like you’d thought, the noises even keeping itself as a quiet buzz. You were only halfway through the school and there wasn’t much sign of any sort of supernatural activity going on here. You gotten to a dead end of the school, double doors that lead out into the parking lot, but to your right was the gymnasium where Dean would be teaching his class. You shut off the reader so it wouldn’t make any noise and opened up the heavy door, sneaking yourself inside without much traveling noise to disturb the ongoing class.

You stopped at the very beginning of the gym and crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes trailing across the line of students already dressed in their mandatory uniform of white shirts and red bottoms. It was something you wore when you were in school. You looked around to see if you could spot Dean anywhere. But from what he was wearing, he stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a were suggestion to blend in by wearing the uniform provided by the school, that’s why Sam was wearing the pale navy blue button up and you in a dress that was buried in the back of your closet with sensible heels to match. This was something that was beyond comparable. Dean was dressed in a starch white polo shirt, tucked into a pair of red shorts that had to hit just a little too high above the knee paired with knee high socks and comfortable sneakers. He pulled the look all together with a red sweat band and a whistle he probably shouldn’t be trusted with.

Dean walked around the gymnasium with his shoulders high, directing his small class of students into a game that wasn’t going to end well. You kept silent, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt before stepping into this disaster. “Today, you will have the honor of playing one of the greatest games ever invented. A game of skill, agility, cunning. A game with one simple rule…” Dean almost seemed like a natural at this, balancing out the fun and seriousness of gym class. You watched as he stopped at the edge of the line, bending down to pick up one of the red balls from the netted bag he’d carried out. He tossed it into the air before catching it. “Dodge.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a wince when you saw Dean accidentally pull back his arm before throwing the rubber ball straight at the kid standing at the edge of the line, unsuspecting of what was happening before he was knocked straight into the stomach with the rubber ball. Dean mumbled an apology when he realized the spike was enough to knock the breath out of the kid. But his attention was drawn over to another student when he raised his hand. “Uh, substitute Coach Roth…” The student timidly spoke up, he drew back his arm when Dean walked over. “Ms. Boudreaux never let us play dodge ball.”

“Well, Ms. B’s in Massachusetts getting married,” Dean said without a care. “So we’re playing.”

“She’s says it’s dangerous.” The student tried to warn him, Dean blew the whistle.

“Take a lap!”

“But—”

Dean wouldn’t hear anymore of it, he blew the whistle one more time before pointing his thumb over his shoulder. The student wasn’t going to argue from a command, he did as he was told, and started running around the gymnasium. You tore your gaze away from the sight when you heard the doors open to see that Sam had found out where you’d gone. Dean looked away from his students to see that you and his little brother were here. He took a break by offering up the balls and ordered for them to go nuts. You crossed your arms over your chest when Dean headed over to the two of you, as you asked him if he was having fun, your eyes dropped to the little red shorts.

“The whistle makes me their god.” Dean said, holding up the object with a cocky smirk.

“Right. Nice shorts.” You said, giving him a playful wink. “By the way, you look ridiculous in them.”

Dean subconsciously tried pulling them down from your remark, “Find anything?”

“I’ve been over the entire school twice.” Sam said, sharing information you were disappointed in hearing. “No sulfur.”

“No, sulfur, no demon.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. “No demon, no case.”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, feeling disappointed from how you jumped the gun so easily. “Maybe I was wrong.”

“Well, it happens to the best of us. Especially someone like you, Y/N. I say we hit the road, huh? But after lunch. It’s sloppy-joe day. And if there was one thing about this school that I miss, it’s that.“ Dean said. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a quiet laugh, yet it quickly turned into another wince at the sight of the student who had finished up his lap get smacked right in the mouth with a ball after you heard an unpleasant whacking sound echo through the gym, capturing your attention. You peered over Dean as he ran fast as he could, hiding the swelling lip as he went straight to the nurse. "Good hustle, Colby! Walk it off!”

You sort of felt bad for leaving the students alone in Dean’s care, not knowing what kind of torture he was going to put them under after giving him a tiny amount of authority. You glanced up at the clock for a moment, wondering what time it was, but when you realized how late it was getting, you remembered you had a class starting in fifteen minutes. “Crap, I gotta go. Class for me starts sooner than I thought and I still gotta pick up copies from the other side of the school.” You said. You were about to leave, but before you could, there was something still bugging you. You pointed at Dean’s poor choice of clothing. “Please change, for the love of God. And stay out of trouble.”

\+ + +

You managed to get through half a class before disaster struck again. You were handling another class, everyone quietly scribbling down their answers on the packets you’d handed out. You had taken your seat at the teacher’s desk and continued on reading through the novel, almost getting yourself lost in the familiar tale, you didn’t realize the chaos brewing out from the classroom right next to you before it was too late. Your head snapped up from reading when you heard the stampede of footsteps running across in the hall. The classroom seemed to have been intrigued to see what was going on, a few even leaned out of their seats to get a better look. You ordered them to focus back on their test, you decided to investigate the matter yourself. Closing the door behind you, you watched as a rush of students from the home economics run out of the place. You cautiously walked over to the quiet and empty room, wondering what was going on.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped inside the room was the blood, it was everywhere. It had splattered from one of the tables students had been working on, all the way to the doorway you were standing in. You traveled further inside the classroom to see that there was a student lying on the ground, caked in the substance himself. Sam was hovering over him, wondering himself what the hell was going on. The boy didn’t looked harmed, more dazed and confused from what happened. You leaned over to see something strange oozing out from his ear when he started getting himself back into reality. You saw that it was a thick and black substance that was coming out from his body. You nervously swallowed at the familiar sight you would know from anywhere, ectoplasm. It wasn’t a demon that you were dealing with, it was a very pissed off spirit.

In under an hour every student and faculty member was inside the auditorium, deciding that two violent attacks under a week meant something was wrong. You managed to squeeze yourself out of the responsibility after you made sure all the students of your current class were settled in. You were now wandering the empty halls with the reader, watching as the needle was like it was this from this morning. No sign of change. You quietly walked the row of lockers, watching the reader go back and forth, but when you heard the quiet swoosh of a door, you dropped your hand to your side and looked over your shoulder. Relief filled you when you saw it was only Dean, who had taken your advice, now dressed in a tracksuit that didn’t look half bad on him.

“How’s the nonviolence assembly going?” You asked, knowing he was forced to partake himself.

“Apparently, shoving a kid’s arm into a cuisinart is not a ‘healthy display of anger.’” Dean said, using air quotes at his last few words. You let out a sigh, walking with him again after you nodded your head. “So, the kid had ectoplasm leaking out of his ear?”

“Yeah. Which only comes from a seriously pissed-off spirit. Call me crazy, but it’s got to be ghost possession.” You said, wanting to bounce off an idea from the man. Dean thought you might had going here, but he made a valid point that it was pretty rare to come across. “I know, but it happens. I mean, they get angry enough, they can take control of a person’s body.”

“All right, so, what, we got a ghost in the building?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, but where? I mean, there’s no EMF. Maybe we could find out who it is, at least.“ You presumed, knowing there was one option of putting an end to this before someone else gotten hurt. "You know, check and see if someone died bloody around here or something.”

“Way ahead of you. I had to break into the principal’s office to get this. Oh, and FYI, I noticed we both have last period free. I say we both meet in the janitor’s closet, eh? Have a little fun after this is done.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, giving you a smirk from what he was proposing. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, knowing exactly what room he was talking about, the closet on the second floor where he’d take all of his girls to make out before sneaking out to class. You shot him down with a flat no, because you were working a job, and his little brother was heading right for the both of you. You filled him on what was going on as Dean took out the folded up piece of paper. “So, there was only one death on campus. It was a suicide back in ‘98. Some kid named Barry Cook.”

Sam couldn’t help himself reach out an arm and snatch the paper away from his brother, wanting to read the information for himself. You looked at him with concern when his face dropped, reading the name himself. You asked him what was wrong, after a moment, he looked over at you. “I knew him.” He admitted, a small sigh falling after what he said. “How’d he die?”

“He slit his wrists in the first-floor of the girls’ bathroom.” Dean said. Your face scrunched up, asking why it sounded familiar to you. “That’s right where the chick got swirled to death. Exactly. So, what? This ghost is possessing nerds?”

“And using them to go after bullies.” You said, finishing what Dean was proposing. Most of high school had been blocked out, but you faintly remembered the tragedy. It had shaken most of the school at the death nobody expected to see coming. You looked over at Sam, knowing he seemed to have gotten close with the boy during his short time here. “Well, does that sound like Barry’s M.O.?”

“Barry had a hard time.” Sam admitted to the both of you with a heavy expression. “There was a bully, he always got it out for him.”

“Dirk the Jerk.” You suddenly blurted the nickname the kid Sam was talking about, the freshman who made all the younger kids’ lives an absolute hell during the school hours. Sam nodded his head, you frowned at the faint memory of the kid he had dealt with before himself.

You remembered exactly what student Sam was talking about because it was one of those moments where you contemplated on getting suspended for after seeing Dirk target the youngest Winchester himself and Barry. You could have easily been like the rest of the kids in the halls, ignoring the chaos and laughter going on after Dirk decided that Barry was punished enough after some jock knocked his stuff right out from his hands. He went up to the boys and started taunting them, like how bullies do, and started causing trouble. Sam tried his hardest to defend himself the best he could, but even that wasn’t good enough. A crowd of students gathered around, wondering what all the fuss was about. You were one of them, more concerned at the wellbeing of who was in the inner circle then catching sight of someone getting punched. You pushed your way into the crowd and caught sight of Dirk towering over Sam, and before you could stop it, he punched the Winchester right in the face, making him tumble to the ground.

You don’t know why you acted the way you did, Sam was just another nameless face in the crowd you really didn’t care too much about, until at that moment. You pushed yourself into the crowd and started taking control of the situation; you’d helped Sam up from the ground, trying your hardest to ignore Dirk’s cheap shots that were making your skin crawl. It was almost enough to make you go on and punch him straight in the jaw, hoping the pressure would knock a few of his teeth loose, but a teacher stepped in before things could get worse and saved you from getting into trouble. Mr. Wyatt was the teacher who helped get everything back to normal, he was your old teacher for English your freshman year. He was one of your personal favorites, always seeming to try his hardest to engage in his students’ lives and pushing them to their fullest potential. If it wasn’t for him, you might have gotten in much larger trouble than thought of.

There was more about that day you didn’t want to think about, all through school turned around into a better one, that’s when you and Dean finally got to talking, his way of saying thank you for what you did. After you snapped at him when you caught the boy lingering in the back, wondering what was going on. Because after you went home with a smile on your face, that’s when the nightmare began. But you didn’t want to recollect on that. You tried your hardest to remember the good times for long as you could.

\+ + +

“I feel like I’ve known you my life.”

It was the cheesiest line that his brain could come up with, and all though it made you laugh, your breath turning into small puffs of smoke when the both of you took comfort in the bleachers. It was cheesy to you when you first heard it, but to Dean, it was the truth that afternoon. Back when he was at school, his last official day before everything happened, the both of you shared a moment in the November afternoon, skipping a few classes and talking about things that he’d never shared to anyone. When he didn’t know who you really were, Dean always presumed you were just a quiet girl who kept her nose buried deep inside a book, thinking you were too good for a guy like him. Turns out you were sarcastic and quick on your feet to battle his sarcastic jabs, being the eighteen year old boy who thought he’d known everything. You were smart and too naive about the monsters that lurked out in the darkness, thinking they were just fictional beings that you read in books. Dean honestly was falling for someone that you teased him about for so many years. At that moment, he felt this connection, like he’d known you from another part of his life, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it just yet.

Dean could sometimes close his eyes and picture exactly how you were. The rosy tint in your cheeks and the smile that never seemed to have vanished from your lips. How the light seemed to never fade away in your eyes, even when you talked to him about your mother who was overbearing and the life she’d practically had planned out. You told him about your plans for college and what you wanted to do with your life. Dean couldn’t help himself but admit that he sometimes hated moving around so much, it didn’t affect him as much as it did his little brother. He looked out for the kid, knowing his father had been gone for weeks, sometimes a month tops. You listened to him, never once giving him a sympathetic look or looking at him like he was weird. It was when you admitted about having some old friends that moved around a lot, how they used to stay with you for a little while when their parents worked—that’s when he said it. Your reaction was priceless, and better than he expected.

Maybe that’s why he hated the school was much. Because it was the small fraction in time when things seemed almost normal. Dean had found his old best friend, and Sam could live a normal life for a few weeks through dealing with school bullies and making a few friends. Even though losing your mother was tragic, you and the brothers tried looking at things from a positive standpoint. You’d offered to let them stay at your house after John went off again, knowing it was part of a new case he wanted to scope out and tracking the demon he didn’t know that killed his wife. The bastard lost a good friend and he still chose to abandon his kids for work. In all honestly, looking back at it now, Dean didn’t really fall in love with the girl who was naive and didn’t know about the hunting lifestyle, who laughed when he said he felt like he’d known you his entire life.

He fell for the girl who was battling the flu, wrapped up in a thick blanket as you battled the chills and sat on the couch with his little brother at eleven at night. You had spent most of the day in bed, sleeping and complaining about how annoyed you were about how Dean never left your side. He’d been on edge from the horrible memory burned in his brain. But the thought seemed to have vanish when he saw you preoccupied with reading an essay Sam had wrote for English about a werewolf hunt him and Dean accomplished the summer before. He saw you talking to Sam, giving him comfort into wanting a normal lifestyle, pushing him for college and taking what life had offered. It was you teasing the boy and making him almost forget about the troubles that followed the hunting and constant traveling. At that moment, Dean felt something he’d hadn’t in a long time, ever since his mother passed, it a sense of completion—and a dying ache for normality.

\+ + +

Standing over the grave of Barry White, you didn’t think coming back here after learning about his friendship was Sam would have lead to this. You leaned against the shovel with aching shoulders and arms, your attention focused on the skeletal remains of the once fifteen year old boy, who was now reduced to nothing after you and the brothers spent a few hours digging up his body in the empty cemetery. Nothing but guilt and sympathy sat inside your gut as you watched Sam squirt out a heavy dose of lighter fluid and salt into the coffin. You understood that Sam was upset at what he was doing to an old friend, but it had to be done. Barry was a teenager tortured by years of bullying and mental illness on top of it. It still didn’t justify his behavior of possessing teenagers and murdering two others because of their behavior. Dean topped off the ritual by striking a single match across the edge before lighting the entire matchbook, he paused for a moment before tossing it into the coffin, igniting the flames that would burn his bones away into ash and dust.

The three of you filled back up the grave and made it look like nothing happened, finally letting Barry rest in peace once and for all. You quietly sat in the backseat of the Impala, watching as the rainfall dripped down the window and hit against the car rooftop. A thick silence seemed to have formed all of you, and while most of the time it’d be a peaceful one after ending a case, you felt different. You took your gaze off the blurry sight from outside and looked over at Sam, who didn’t seem all too well. Dean shifted his attention away from the road every once in a while, unsure about his brother, too. Neither one of you were sure if Sam wanted to talk about what happened, or the extent of his friendship with Barry. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked.

“Sammy,” You spoke to him a quiet tone. “Are you feeling okay?

"Barry was my friend. I just burned his tone.” Sam answered you with a monotone. You shifted around in your seat as you tried your hardest not to let out a heavy sigh. You knew this was hard for him, and while you tried telling him Barry was finally resting in peace, the man couldn’t help himself but feel like all of this was his fault. “I mean, if Dad had let us stay just a little while longer, maybe I could have helped the kid, you know?”

“You read the coroner’s report same as me and Y/N. Barry was on every anxiety drug and antidepressant known to man. School was hell for the kid. His parents had split up. He just wanted out. It was tragic, but it’s not your fault.” Dean said, trying whatever he could to make his little brother feel better about the situation. When he looked over at the young man, there still was no change in the sullen expression that sat on his face. “To tell you the truth, I’m glad we got out of that school. I hated it there.”

You looked at the man sitting in the driver’s seat, his last comment made you look at him a bit funny. He’d only went to school for a few weeks before ditching it all together after what happened to you. You wondered what was so bad that it made him hate it as much as it did. “It wasn’t all that bad.” You said, wondering if he was going to confess. “I managed to survive all these years. Sam doesn’t seem to agree, either.”

"How can you say that after what happened to you two?” Dean asked.

You weren’t sure how to answer that one for him. So instead you sank back into your seat, resting your aching body and listened to the rainfall going outside. The silence returned once more after everyone got caught up in their own thoughts, you sat wondering what went wrong for the oldest Winchester.

\+ + +

By the next morning everything was almost back to normal. The trunk was filled with your bags and the house was now in the rear view mirror, locked up for another time where you’d be able to be back again. But before you could hit the road again to find another case, Sam had a request for a quick pit stop, and that was back at Truman high for one last look before it would be gone for him forever. You peered outside to to see the familiar surroundings that were now deserted after class started about an hour ago. Sam was here because he wanted to see someone one last time, it seemed that Barry wasn’t the only one who he remembered from his small time here.

“We came back here so you could talk to a teacher?” Dean asked, seeming rather annoyed to be back here all together. You rolled your eyes, Sam said something about how the teacher he’s wanted to see again was a good man. He left a mark on Sam that he wanted to thank him for. Dean wasn’t all that impressed. “Well, whatever. Go have your Robin Williams ‘O Captain! My Captain!’ moment. Just make it quick.”

“Take all the time you want, Sam.” You said, giving the younger man reassurance as Dean shut off the engine to keep from wasting gas. Sam nodded his head before he was stepping out of the car and heading for the school for one last time. When you saw that he was near the entrance, you opened up the back seat car door and heading for the passenger side for the moment. You dropped down to the seat that was still warm, Dean looked over at you, prompting you to start the conversation after the both of you got a moment together. “So? Are you ever going to tell me what’s causing you to have a stick up your ass about this entire case?”

Dean fell silent from your question, not because he was frustrated at what you were asking him, but because he wasn’t exactly pleased at the answer he wanted to admit. He shifted around in his seat before he let out a heavy sigh, shrugging his shoulders to start. “I don’t know.” He mumbled, making you look at him with a tilted head, knowing there was more than he was telling you. There was a pause before he was telling you something you hadn’t even thought to dwell on yourself. “I didn’t like school because it wasn’t what I’d thought it be. You know, meeting up with you again. Sam getting a chance at actually having a decent high school experience. I really did want us to stay just a bit longer.”

Of course there was another hunt a few states over that occupied John’s attention and fresh demon activity after learning about what killed your mother right on top of it to sweeten the deal. After you said you were alright to be alone, denying his offer to stay with the family until you felt comfortable enough, there was no denying you’d hoped the brothers would stay just a bit longer. But their father thought a month and a half was long enough, and off they were, returning to their lives on the road. of switching schools every few weeks and the loneliness of motel rooms they’d known since childhood. You always thought deep down Sam’s first taste of normalcy was from here, having a good friend and a teacher that helped straighten out a few things. It lead him to the path of choosing to go to college and ending his hunting career. But after a few years away, things didn’t last very long, sending him back to right where he started. While he was content at how things turned out, you knew the opportunity to talk to the teacher who helped push him was the last remaining factor of his old life.

You opened your mouth and tried to respond at what Dean had admitted to you. But as you looked up and over the entrance of the school, what you had saw what wasn’t what you were expecting to see after a few minutes of waiting. Sam was walking straight out of the school, and by walking, he was limping with his legs tightly pressed together, looking more disheveled than he had going in. Whatever happened in there, you knew it wasn’t good.

\+ + +

You shuffled through the cooler that contained all the bottles of alcohol you’d stocked up before leaving, fresh with ice so they were ready for whenever you and the boys picked a new motel to keep yourselves occupied. While mostly the bottles were used for drinking and antiseptic when you ran out, you’d thought there could be a new purpose for what Sam went through. You grabbed a freezy cold bottle of whisky and stood up, walking over to the younger Winchester after the three of you found refuge a few miles outside of town. You offered him the cold bottle to help the pain, he looked at you for a moment, you rolled your eyes, forcing him to take it from you. Sam awkwardly put the bottle between his legs after you looked away, hoping the coldness would help numb the pain after being kneed in the groin.

"That ghost is dead. I’m gonna rip its lungs out!” Dean growled in absolute anger, frustration settling in him after seeing what happened to his baby brother. You peered over your shoulder, giving him a strange look at what he just said. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“It new my name, guys. My real name. We burned Barry’s bones.” Sam said, trying his hardest to finding an explanation of what happened back at the school. It only ended with him becoming baffled at the turn of events. “What the hell?”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t Barry. Maybe we missed something. We just got to go back.” You said, your attention drifting to the students that had been possessed by the spirit. You leaned against the Impala for a moment, skimming through the information once more. When you took yet another look, you spotted something that was a small detail you brushed off, you weren’t sure how this managed to pass you until now. Nodding your head at Dean, you walked over to Sam to give him the file you’d been looking over. “Check it out. All these kids, they rode the same bus.”

"Okay, so maybe the bus is haunted.” Sam guessed, you shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, that would explain why there was no EMF at the school, but not the attacks.” Dean said, wandering back to the Impala after he took a glance at the sheets from what’d you found. “I mean, ghosts are tied to the places that they haunt. They can’t just bail.”

“Unless this one can.” You said, suggesting more to this theory about this ghost who was showing to be nothing you’d dealt with before. Dean looked at you, not exactly wrapping his mind around what you were trying to say. “There’s lore about spirits possessing people and riding them for miles. Then whenever they leave the body, they’re bungeed back to their usual haunt. But until then, the ghosts can go wherever they want.”

“So a spook just grabs a kid on the bus and walks right into Truman?” Dean asked. You nodded your head, seeming to see that things were starting to look that way for you all. “Ghosts getting creative—well, that’s super.”

\+ + +

After finding out the bus, you headed back to the school, pulling a few white lies before getting yourself into the school administration’s files to see the background. Nothing caught you off guard from the history, but getting onto the bus was different story. You walked around in the tight aisles, watching as the needle on the EMF reader start jumping back and forth, showing signs there had been a spirit roaming around, picking what victim it could choose to get the hell out of here. There was rows and rows of seats, making the choice wide and vast, but the spirit didn’t choose just anyone, it was the kid sitting in the empty seat by themselves.

“Here ghosty, ghosty, ghosty!” Dean called out. He stepped out from the row of seats he’d been searching through as Sam was in the back of the bus, scanning the place himself to see if he could find anything useful himself. “Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“Man, I don’t get it.” Sam said. You looked up and away from the reader to put your focus on the man standing across the way, his voice trailing off as an echo from how far away he was. “No one ever died on this bus, and it’s not like there’s a body hidden in here.”

“Yeah, but a flap of skin, a hair, I mean, hell, a hangnail,” You looked around the bus as you bent down to see if there was something suspicious hiding underneath a seat after you spotted a possible clue. But it only turned out to be a piece of dust. “Something’s got to be tying the ghost to this place. We’ve just got to find it.”

You and Sam continued on looking to find that needle in the haystack, Dean headed up to the front of the bus to see if he could find anything useful. He plopped himself down in the driver’s seat and reached for the small compartment where he’d found stuffed with different papers. He shuffled through a few, finding a couple of paperback books and the scheduled route for students assigned to this bus. Dean flipped through a few more pages before coming across an official certificate. “Got a new driving permit. Issued two weeks ago.” He said, finding something that might have been useful to the three of you. You headed up with Sam to take an inspection of the document yourself as you peered over your shoulder while making a comment of how that was just before the first attack. “Name of the bus driver is Dirk McGregor Sr. 39 North Central Avenue.”

“McGregor?” Sam repeated after his little brother, seeming to have found that name familiar. Dean nodded his head, wonder why his brother wanted to know. “I knew his son.”

“Dude, you went there for a month.” You said, looking at Sam with a baffled expression. “Did you get to know everybody at school?”

Sam looked at you, knowing there was something about this that was making a hunch grow about what could have been possibly happening here. It wasn’t just Barry that he made a connection with during the short time at school, there was someone else that gotten under his skin, a bully who’d gotten a taste of his own medicine. But how it was handled after he left, and the secrets he was about to learn, wasn’t what he was expecting to come about.

\+ + +

Mr. McGregor was exactly like how he was in his recent photograph on his driving permit. He was an older man with a friendly demeanor, welcoming all you into his home after you told him about close relationship with his son, and after hearing about his passing, you thought it was be nice to visit him out of respect. He ushered the three of you into his living room, a small smile seeming to spread across his face from the memories of his only son and the fellow students that he’d innocently thought were here to recollect on memories. If he only knew the real reasons why you were here, it would break his heart, and probably scare him to death.

“So you were friends with Dirk in high school? I don’t recall Dirk having many.” The man admitted, a small sigh falling out from him at the faint memory. But he snapped out of his thoughts, still trying to play a good host. “Here, sit. Sit down.”

You took the love seat across from Mr. McGregor as the brothers took the couch. “When did, uh,” Sam shifted around in his seat so he was comfortable before asking the question he was dreaded to hear, knowing it was going to be hard for the deceased boy’s father. “When did Dirk pass?”

“He was eighteen.” Mr. McGregor answered. He shifted his gaze to the carpet for a moment when Sam asked what happened, the man let out a heavy sigh from the memories. The answer wasn’t what you were expecting to hear. “Well there was, first, drinking, then drugs, and then too many drugs. And then he just slipped through my fingers. It was my fault. I should have seen it coming, you know? Dirk, he, uh—well, he had his troubles.”

"What kind of troubles?” You asked the man.

“School was never easy for Dirk. We didn’t have much money, and, well, you know, kids—they can be cruel. They picked on him.” Mr. McGregor admitted, that seemed to have taken Sam by surprise. You remembered how he had trouble with a kid in school, and you nearly ready to beat up the kid. You didn’t realize the trouble Dirk went through himself. Guilt settled inside you from what you heard his father say. “They called him poor and dirty and stupid. They even had a nickname for him—Dirk the Jerk. And after what happened to his mother, he—”

“His mother?” Sam cut off the man, wanting to know more.

“Yeah, Jane, my wife. She died when Dirk was thirteen. Cancer.” Mr. McGregor said, you swallowed down the truthful struggle the boy had been going through. “I was working three jobs, so it fell to Dirk to take care of her. And he was a great kid. He made sure Jane got her medicine. He helped her, cleaned up after her. But, you know, you—you watch somebody die slow, waste away to nothing…it does things to a person. Horrible things.”

Sam took his gaze away from the fireplace mantle of the young Dirk, putting his attention back on his father. “I didn’t know about his mother.” He said, speaking with a quiet tone.

“He—He wouldn’t talk about her, not even to me.” Mr. McGregor admitted. “Lot of anger in that boy.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam apologized, giving the man a sincere look.

“Well, we’d really like to pay our respects, Mr. McGregor.” Dean said, bringing the conversation to the reason why all of you were here. “Um, you mind telling us where Dirk is buried?”

“Oh, he wasn’t. I had him cremated.” He said, giving you the answer none of you quite wanted to hear. You sank in your seat for a moment, contemplating how you were going to ask him about whatever remaining parts of him were still out there. But Dean beat you to the punch, casually asking the father. Mr. McGregor looked at the man a bit funny, before answering the question for him. “I kept a lock of his hair. On my bus, in my bible.”

\+ + +

You honestly thought this hunt could be wrapped up by swinging by the school again, searching through the compartment on the bus and finding that little piece of hair that was keeping Dirk’s spirit at rest. From what you were hearing about him, the boy never caught a break, getting a tough time at home from his own struggles and dealing with horrible people at school. But it didn’t make up for the three people he possessed—killing on and wounding two people in the process. But when you got to the school, you learned things were about to get a hell of alot worse. The bus took off an hour after you left–to pick up a team full of football players from a game a few hours outside of town. If you were guessing, Dirk was about to have some fun.

Luckily enough, you were smarter than something who was blinded by his own rage for destruction and murder. You peeked out from the weeds and overgrown grass, knowing from the route that was being taken, eventually they’d have to cross through here, and since there was no reports of bus crashes, you might have been right about this. Most of the only things you could see from the back roads was darkness from beyond, even after your eyes adjusted after spending out here in the woods, waiting. But the familiar rumbling engine of the school bus and the sudden bright lights coming from the headlights brought the first part of this plan into action. You and brothers grabbed what you needed before getting out of the way, knowing things were about to become a bit hectic in the next few moments that were about to unravel.

The bus continued on down the back road, not seeming to notice the spikes all across the way, punching holes in the front and back tires, making the bus roughly skid across the road before safely crash into a ditch. With the chaos dwindling down, the bus driver stepped out into the quiet atmosphere, wondering what the hell just happened. He cautiously began looking around, turning his back and giving the perfect opportunity for you and Sam to sneak up behind him. The sound of a gun cocking into place was the first warning, Sam’s voice was what made the man look over at you and him.

“Winchester.” Dirk said, seeing the familiar presence he’d come across just across this morning. The man he was possessing drew his lips into a smirk, taking notice the shotguns that were pointed at him. “What are you gonna do, shoot me?”

“Don’t need to.” Sam said, knowing he’d had a trick up his sleeve to keeping the spirit trapped inside the man as you found the lock of hair keep Dirk here. There was devil’s traps that kept demons at bay, so, Sam thought a possible idea that could keep a spirit on lockdown. Dean snuck up from behind and easily tied up the man, keeping the spirit inside of him from slipping out to another body. “That rope is soaked in saltwater, Dirk. You’re not going anywhere.”

You kept your finger on the trigger as you watched Dean head for the bus to start the search, you looked over at Sam, knowing he’d gotten things under control for now. You dropped your position and started up the first two steps, only to be greeted with a bus full of teenagers that looked terrified out of their mind, and their coach, wondering what the hell was going on here. “All right, everybody stay where you are.” Dean said, trying to get this situation under control before anyone started panicking. “You’ll be okay.”

“Aren’t you the P.E. teacher?” The coach asked, his attention focused on Dean.

“Not really. We’re like '21 Jump Street.’” Dean said, trying to cover the tracks for the both of you. You let him make up whatever wild story that floated his boat, you dropped yourself into the driver’s seat and reached for the small cubby, shoving around random papers until you found the bible where Mr. McGregor had mentioned of keeping his son’s hair. “The bus driver sells pot.”

You flipped through the pages, wondering where the hell a lock of hair could be kept between these flimsy pages. You took the bold move and turned it upside down, letting the pages wiggle around, but nothing dropped out. “It’s not here!” You called out.

You and Dean ignored the looks you were starting to get from everyone as you exited the bus, wanting to see if Dirk would give the answer to the whereabouts from the goodness of his own heart. Sam tried once, but all he’d gotten was a wrong answer that tested his nerves and frustration of the situation that was only getting worse. He dropped one hand from the shotgun he was holding and marched forward to the man, roughly shoving him into the side of the bus, all before pointing the barrel of the gun at his chest. “Where is it?!” He yelled, his tone changing into a venomous one.

“Sam Winchester. Still a bully.” You, you jocks…you popular kids, you always thought you were better than everybody else. And to you, I was just Dirk the Jerk, right?“ Dirk asked, his attention focusing on the man pointing the gun at him still. "Now you evil sons of bitch are gonna get what’s coming to you.”

“I’m not evil, Dirk. I’m not. And neither were you.” Sam said. He stepped away from the man as he dropped the gun to his side, understanding the emotions he’d gone through. “Trust me. I’ve seen evil. We were scared and miserable, and we took it out on each other—us and everybody else. That’s high school. But you suffer through that, and it gets better. I’m just sorry that you didn’t get a chance to see that…you or Barry.”

“Nothing is gonna get better for me.” Dirk said, his temper starting to get the best of him. No amount of empathetic words were going to undo the hell he was put through the past several years in high school. Or the plans he had for tonight that all of you ruined for him. “Not ever.”

Dirk worked through his anger, pushing out his arms and fighting the bounds that weren’t much of a struggle anymore with the adrenaline and anger that was starting to pump through his body. When you heard the snapping sound of the rope and the man getting ready to make his move, he was stopped after you worked faster, quickly positioning the shotgun upwards and pulling the trigger, landing a salt round into the man’s chest. He went down to the pavement, unexpected from the attack. You watched as the man laid on the ground, showing absolutely no signs of movements for a few moments. You and the brothers took a small step forward, wondering if Dirk was kicked out of the man’s body, and if you killed the bus driver. You waited a moment before you heard him let out a groan, a hand reaching up to clutch his chest. With that one problem out of the way, didn’t mean that Dirk was still around, getting ready to possess another body.

It was the sudden shuffle backwards after a teenager came up from behind, tackling Sam to the ground, showing that Dirk picked another body. He chose someone that had to be just as big as Sam, giving him a fair advantage at fighting chance. You thought shooting Dirk again would have been easy enough to get him out of the teeanger he was possessing, but nothing happened, he kept punching Sam with almost no change in pace. Sam didn’t seem to mind Sam wasn’t focusing on getting himself free out of this position, he ordered for you and his brother to find the lock of hair to end this once and for all. Dean went off back to the bus, quick as he could, shoving around papers and checking at the smallest areas of the dashboard to see where he could find that last remaining piece that was keeping Dirk here. When you saw that Dean wasn’t finding anything, you thought of another idea of where it could be hiding.

You headed over to the man that was still lying on the ground, a painful ache settling in his chest. You dropped the shotgun to the ground and leaned over him, patting around in his pockets and jacket to see if you could find where the lock of hair was. “Hey, buddy,” You gave the man a friendly smile when he managed to look over at you. “This isn’t what it looks like.” You patted around his pockets, but you still didn’t find what you were looking for. It took a moment to figure out the hiding spot before you were leaning over, taking off the man’s boot. You tipped it upside down, and like you hoped, the small ponytail of hair came falling out. You snatched it from the ground and waved it up in the air, catching Dean’s attention. He jumped out from the bus and headed forward, fumbling to find the lighter he’d always kept inside his jacket. You hissed at him to hurry up, knowing Dirk wasn’t stopping with the punches anytime soon.

One flick of the lighter, a familiar hue of orange ignited as you held the strands of hair over the flames, letting the edges quickly catch. You dropped it to the ground, letting the last remains of Dirk become destroyed, the screams of pain coming from the teenager was enough evidence to show that it worked. You quickly looked over your shoulder to see that everything was somewhat alright once more, minus the body lying on Sam’s chest.

“Little help?” Sam managed to ask, using whatever breath he had left.

You dropped yourself to the pavement and leaned against the bus, wondering what made Dean look at the sight with a slightly disturbed face. “Ew. He’s giving you full cowgirl.” Dean said, all before his lips were stretching into a smirk. You looked over at him, shaking your head in annoyance, thinking his sense of humor might not have changed ever since he left high school.

\+ + +

For so many years you wanted to go back in time, change it from your parents passing away and the brothers leaving you after spending over a month with you back at your old school. You spent so much time after everything happened in bed when you couldn’t sleep, restless with thoughts of a picture perfect life that you created inside your mind. You knew if you wanted to have one, either your parents still being alive, or the brothers being with you, it meant that you couldn’t have both. For a while you wanted to be normal, but right now, at this very moment, you felt like a teenager again. In the sense of accomplishing something Dean had been dying to do for the hell of it. You could feel a broomstick handle poking in your lower backside when Dean gripped your hips tighter, you fumbled with your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as he easily hoisted you up, letting you sit on a wobbly wooden table. The entire place smelled like bleach and clean supplies, somehow it made this experience even better for you.

“What if we get caught?” You whispered, your voice nearly too quiet to hear.

You managed to speak between the mixture of deep breaths and kisses, your eyes adjusting to the darkness of the janitor’s closet Dean dragged you into almost fifteen minutes ago. It was the exact same place he brought the girls who’d he made out between classes all those years ago, now you were in the exact same position, suddenly wondering if you were going to get busted by the principal. Sam was the one who wanted to be here back at the school, getting the chance to finally speak to his old teacher, Mr. Wyatt. You were here for a chance to thank a few teachers who were the ones who gotten you the substitute positions in the first place. It was one of those rare moments that you were thankful for, getting a chance to end a hunt on a good feeling.

But the emotions only lasted so long when you were walking down the hall, minding your own business and heading back to the Impala where you thought Dean was. Only you were taken off by surprise, being pulled into another room after a stranger grabbed a hold of your arm. It took a second for you not to attack before you realized it was Dean, wanting to do one last thing before the three of you left Truman for good. Like a couple of teenagers, he wanted to give you the experience of making out in the janitor’s closet. It was cheesy and dumb as hell—and you were honestly loving every second.

“That makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?” He chuckled out, seeming to find this entire situation all too amusing and for for his own good. You swore every pair of footsteps you heard outside of the door was going to be the one who caught you both, making this situation more awkward than you could explain. “And besides, I’ve waited too damn long for this.”

The feeling was mutual between the both of you. You spent so many years wanting a moment like this, and knowing that you were finally here, having a chance to feel like a teeanger again, you let go. You giggled like a giddy teenager as the anticipation and nervousness swayed in the pit of your stomach, silencing yourself as you leaned forward to kiss Dean once more. Who knew after so many years you’d be back at this school in some smelly janitor’s closet, trying your hardest not to be loud as you enjoyed a rare moment of normalcy. It took a few moments before you gotten yourself engrossed into the kiss, almost forgetting about the world around you. Of course the fun didn’t last very long.

The sudden pouring of light and hinges squeaky on the doorknob swinging open making you rip away from Dean quick as you could. Both of you were frozen in your spot, squinting to see who the intruder was. You pulled a hand away from Dean’s chest and shielded your eyes, almost praying it wasn’t a teacher. Luckily enough you only had Sam standing there, somehow finding out where the both of you snuck off to. But it was the familiar tilt of the head and look on his face to show that he wasn’t even the least bit amused of the trouble you and his brother managed to get into while he was gone.

\+ + +

It took some convincing, but you managed to get the boys to stay into town just one more day before hitting the road once more tomorrow morning. You decided to celebrate another job well done by buying a case of beer and ordering pizza that would pair well with the selection of crappy movies you’d picked out for the three of you to watch, it’d be a perfect night in. You hoped it would be enough to help from what you were about to bring up with them. You spent almost an hour away from all the running around you did, picking up the beer and snacks, along with a few documents shoved inside your bag, but it was easily distracted with the scolding hot pizza box in your hands. Somehow you managed to get inside the front door with a free hand before kicking the door shut with your foot. As you were about to call out for them to help you, your voice was drowned out from the other ones coming from the living room.

You followed the familiar path to the living room down the hall, passing family photos that had hung on the walls, a collage of photographs of your entire life. You stepped inside with your hands full of everything that you promised, but it wasn’t enough to distract the brothers from the heated argument about what they wanted to watch first. You rolled your eyes, knowing there was nothing that could change the sibling rivalry between the both of them. You let them be, letting the aroma of melting cheese cut them thought of a petty situation as you headed off to the kitchen, you walked over to the island and dropped the pizza box first before dragging your arm upwards to drop the plastic bags next to it. As you set your bag down, you knew the plan worked when the house went silent, a few seconds later footsteps approaching with familiar voices about being starving and how good the food smelled.

Sam busied himself by grabbing some plates from the cabinet as Dean headed over to the counter, fishing out the beer you’d gotten, snagging a few before twisting off the top to his own. You kept yourself silent for a moment as you reached for your bag, fetching the sealed envelope and a something metal and cold against your skin. Without telling them anything, you dragged their attention away from the food when you handed the large envelope to Dean. He looked at you a bit strange, but when you nodded at him to open it up, he put his beer to the counter and did what you told. It took a moment of folding up the metal clasp before he was pulling out a thick amount of documents that look important. He skimmed them for a moment before he read the title, when he read the words, his eyes instantly drew up to you. You could see the anger and confusion settling in his facial expressions, when he spoke your name in a serious tone, Sam was starting to look at with worry, wondering himself of what was going on.

“Hear me out, please?” You asked, putting your hands up in defense. “Don’t freak—”

“Don’t freak?” Dean questioned you, his eyebrows raised and forehead wrinkled into deep lines. You let out a breath when you heard him slam the papers against the counter, making a loud noise from impact. Sam leaned over, outstretching his arm and grabbing the documents to see what this entire fuss was about. His face dropped when he read the two words on top of the page, living will in capital and bold letters. “Is there something you’re not telling us, Y/N?”

"It’s just for precaution, okay? In case something happens, I want to make sure you guys are gonna be set.” You managed to explain yourself between the argument that was about to arise between you and the brothers. You knew it came out worse than you thought, prompting you to roll your eyes and speak quicker than Dean could. “You guys are my family, you know that. And it’s pretty clear that we’ll do just about anything to keep one another safe. But you know that this lifestyle is dangerous, too. If something were to happen to me…”

“Y/N, don’t say—”

“I already had this planned out long ago, but I decided to bring it up now. After what happened.” You said, cutting off Sam before he could stop you from saying exactly what he didn’t want to hear. The hunting lifestyle, no matter how rewarding and challenging it was, always had the deadly consequence if you weren’t safe. You hoped if something were to happen, the brothers would understand that it was meant to be, they wouldn’t do something irrational like before. “If something were to happen to me, I wanna know that you guys get something you rightfully deserve. And that’s this.” You gestured to the house, knowing it was time to tell them about the plan you’d kept since you were eighteen. “This place is yours just as much as it is mine. But, since both of you are legally pronounced dead, I had to use a couple of fake names to make sure it worked out. I just wanted to give you guys something you never really had before. A second home.”

You sealed the deal by reaching over to grab the keys from the counter, tossing them each one for future use. The first house they remembered will always be Baby, the car in which had all their fondest memories from childhood, where good and terrifying moments laid deep in your mind. Nothing could replace her, but you wanted to give them a small sense of comfort knowing they had at least somewhere else to go. This was the place where all of you pretended like everything was normal. It was the safe haven for you, at least, and after all the things the brothers have been through, they deserved a piece of it for themselves.

You didn’t want everyone focusing on this topic too much, knowing it was going to ruin the night you had planned out for the three of you. “Ladies first. I am starving.” You said, squeezing yourself to the food before it was all gone thanks to the boys and their never ending appetite.

You topped off yourself with a cold beer and headed for the living room, the brothers followed after grabbing their own food. You took your usual seat in the middle of the couch, a moment later, the weight shifted dramatically as Dean took a seat on your left side and Sam took your right. All of you settled on a movie, and with a push of button, the beginning film credits started rolling in. You gotten yourself even more comfortable by leaning into the crook of Dean’s arms and swinging your legs to rest on Sam’s lap. Ignoring their protests from what you’d done, you brought up the food to your lips and took a satisfying bite.

\+ + +

It was around midnight when you decided it was time for bed, knowing all of you had a long day tomorrow when it was time get back on the road. You made a mental checklist of what else that needed to be done as you went through your nightly routine, making sure all the dishes and mess from this past few days was cleaned up along with the bags sitting at the front door. When everything seemed to have been exactly where it should be, you headed upstairs, going to your bedroom where Dean had been waiting for you. This was the last night to enjoy together before it was back to the same routine. You knew it was for the best to keep your romantic life split between hunting, but that didn’t mean you missed moments like this where you could act like a normal couple. And everything everything that happened, you took every moment you could, little or big. 

You headed into the bedroom to see Dean was lying in bed, his head rested against his folded arms. You gave him a small smile as you finished up a small task, roaming around the room, making sure you’d gotten everything packed up and things were exactly how you wanted it. You didn’t realize Dean had been watching you this entire time, thinking to himself about something for a moment, all before he spoke up. "Who knew things would have ended up like this.” He said, making your head snap over to him. You gave him a funny look as your lips stretched into another smile, wondering what he was getting at. You shoved a drawer with your hip before you headed over to the bed, your body sinking into the sheets. Dean looked at you for a moment, suddenly it made you conscious of every little action you made, like he was inspecting you under a fine microscope. His lips faintly stretched into a smirk from what he said. “You and me together. Even after everything we’ve been through.”

“That’s what makes this so much better.” You mumbled. “At least something good came about.”

You wanted to talk more about it, but the yawn coming out of your mouth next after you looked at the time realize how late it was. You crawled forward, getting yourself in between the sheets and comforters so you were comfortable. As you made yourself nestled into the crook of Dean’s shoulder after he shifted around, draping an arm around your body to pull you close. You started closing your eyelids, letting the familiar sense of sleep cloud your mind as you managed to give one more good night before settling with the darkness. Dean ended the night by leaning over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and saying good night, knowing it was going to be a while until the both of you could get a chance like this again.


	14. Sex and Violence.

People do a lot of crazy things for love, you knew that too well. But you knew there was people out in this world who would do a hell of alot worse to get out of a relationship that started off picture perfect, but had drawn out into a nightmare that felt like it would never end. There was cheating and lying, starting fights and pushing away their partner away until everything crumbled apart like they wanted. Some people weren’t that patient. If that wasn’t good enough, if they were absolutely desperate, murder was the only way to get them out of their lives for good. But that didn’t seem like the case for Adam and Vicki Benson, the happily married couple of eight years with their smiling faces plastered on the frontline of yesterday’s newspaper.

You headed down the empty motel hallway with the paper tucked underneath your arm and a tray of coffee to help wake up the brothers this early morning. You found a possible case for the three of you after crashing at a motel for the past few days. It could have been a demon possession from the research you’d done, but to be safe, you’d called Bobby to see if he could help track down any sort of weather patterns to help figure out what you might be dealing with. He couldn’t seem to find anything out, but to be safe, he would continue looking, and you would investigate after convincing the brothers to head back on the road.

Softly knocking on the door twice, you waited a moment before you let yourself in, calling out that it was you, bearing gifts of caffeine. You opened the door wider when you heard the squeaks from the motel bed and Dean’s familiar groans after you rose him from slumber. You spotted him still in bed, his eyelids partly open as you stepped inside, a smile spreading across your lips at the sight of him. Making your way across the room, you notice that Sam’s in the bathroom, wrapping up a conversation on the phone. You don’t give it much thought as you put the tray to the nightstand, leaning over to give Dean a quick kiss on the lips as your morning routine with him before sitting yourself down on the edge. You grab your warm cup of coffee just as Sam steps out from the bathroom, his attention lingers to the newspaper you’re holding, all before the steaming hot coffee with his name written in Sharpie.

“You guys are up early.” Dean said. You moved a bit so he could sit up in bed and take a look at the clock on the nightstand across from him. He looked over at his brother before asking, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I was in the can.” Sam answered, not giving his brother’s previous suspicion much thought as you quietly drank away your coffee. Before you stepped inside the room, Dean was wide awake, and took notice of the private conversation Sam was having. But the younger man brushed it off like nothing happened, not even when Dean cautiously looked at him for a second, Sam grew a smile. “Want me to draw you a picture?”

“No,” Dean mumbled underneath his breath. “I’ll pass.”

“If you guys are done with the bickering, I’ve found us a job—Bedford, Iowa.” You said, directing the conversation to why you were here so early. You toss Sam the newspaper first as Dean ran a hand down his face, trying to get himself energized enough to get out of bed and reach for the coffee you’d gotten for him. “Guy beats his wife’s brains out with a meat tenderizer. And get this—third local inside two months to murder his wife. And I checked. No priors or strange medical history of abuse on any of them, all happily married.”

“Sounds like ‘Ozzie and Harriet.’”

“More like the ‘Shining.’”

“All right, well,” Dean took a moment to skim over the newspaper article after his brother handed it off to him, examining it to see if this could be your kind of thing. It’d been almost a week since anything decent caught his attention, and if men were murdering their wives for no reason what’s so ever, this might be your kind of thing. “I guess we better have a look.”

\+ + +

Adam Benson looked to have been in the worst shape of his life; the man sitting across from you didn’t match the description his neighbors have given him—boyish charm with a polite personality, a helpless romantic when it came to his wife. Nobody in a million years would expect Adam to be dressed in a prison jumpsuit with his hands cuffed to the metal interrogation table, in case he would have a sudden outburst again. But the idea was challenged from the dead look in his eye, all emotion seemed to have been drained from his body, he seemed to be left nothing more than a hallowed version of himself. You watched as Adam’s gaze lifted up from the table, his expression changed into a frustrated one when he looked at the two lawyers, wanting to discuss, yet again, about the heinous crime he’d committed to his wife that he loved. You gave him a polite smile when he looked over at you after giving the same dead and cold stare to show his displeasure from going through the same routine again.

“Why does the P.D. keep sending you guys?” Adam asked. You could hear his voice, the montone translated into a tiredness that you associated wasn’t because he was getting restless nights about the trail ahead. He was jumping both feet first into taking his punishment, taking whatever crime the judge put his way. “I already said I don’t want a lawyer.”

"They’re lining up the firing squad.” Dean warned the man of the risk he’d be taking.

Adam looked up from the table once more from the threat he already knew, “I’m pleading guilty.”

“All right, look, you don’t want us to represent you—that’s fine. In fact, it’s probably not a bad idea, between you and me.” Dean said, acting a bit too casual from the way he was speaking to Adam, seeming to drift off at the fact that you and him were supposed to be helping here. Neither one of you had knowledge like Sam, but you insisted that he should go speak to the coroner. You were starting to think this was a bad idea. You shifted around in your seat and cleared your throat, snapping back Dean into the reality. “We just want to understand what happened. That’s all.”

“Mr. Benson,” You quietly spoke the man’s name, making him take his gaze away from the table once more. You gave him a type of look that could be read as empathy, that whatever he was about to say could be useful. That you wanted to know what really happened. “Please.”

Adam was silent for a long moment in time. He shifted around his expression, not sure how many times he needed to repeat himself until everyone understood that he needed to be held accountable for his actions. You and Dean sat there right across from him like the other lawyer he had yesterday morning, eager to hear what really happened, if there was a missing piece of evidence he was withholding. But it was the same story he’d repeated to everyone that walked into this room and asked. “What happened was…I killed my wife. And you want to know why?“ Adam asked. "Because she made plans without asking me.”

You would have expected to hear this confession from someone who had a history of physical abuse against his spouse. There were people out in the world who would snap if their spouse did something without their consent. But that wasn’t the case. Adam didn’t throw a single punch or leave a mark on Vicki’s body. All he did was grab the meat tenderizer and then bashed his wife’s brains in. “When it happened, how did you feel?” You asked him, still believing there could have been something else he wouldn’t admit to without a small push of comfort. “Disoriented? Out of control? Perhaps…something possessed you to do it?”

“I knew exactly what I was doing.” Adam admitted, shaking his head. “I was crystal clear.”

“Then why did you do it?” Dean questioned the man.

“I don’t know.” Adam confessed once more. You heard his breathing becoming heavier when he remembered again that his wife was dead because of him. His breaths turned into shallow ones, like he was trying his hardest not to cry as his brow furrowed. “I loved her. We were happy.”

You listened to what he had to say, but you weren’t going to a guilty plea just yet. You looked over at Dean and gave a small nod, knowing it was time to see if he really was the man everyone said he was. Dean switched around in spot on the chair so he was now opening the briefcase he brought in here with the documents you’d found on Adam. Dean took out a piece of paper and placed it in front of the man, he tapped the pen he was holding against the bottom page. “Nine g’s. That’s a hefty bill.” Dean said, setting up the bait. Adam’s face dropped when he realized he was looking at his credit card statements. He asked where you’d gotten it. “Doesn’t matter. We have it. See, certain charges—ones you don’t want the missus to know—they show up under shady names like ’M and C Entertainment.”

Adam shifted around in his seat until he was leaning back, suddenly he was acting different, now defensive. You wondered for a moment if this was about another woman. Vicki found out, they started arguing, things escalated quickly—he thought out of anger and grabbed the tool, bashing her skull in. His answer wasn’t making you think any differently at the moment. “Yeah, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you’re dropping plastic at a nudie bar, for instance.” Dean said, making assumptions.

“We just,” You quickly spoke up, wanting to reassure Adam that you weren’t backing him into the corner. “Want to know the truth, Mr. Benson.”

Adam let out a quiet sigh, knowing well enough the truth was going to come out eventually. He looked around the room for a moment, his eyelids were hooded, like he was trying to picture the woman he’d spent almost ten grand on. You could see a smile spread across his face for the second before opening up his eyes and looking over at you. “Her name was Jasmine.” Adam began. You stopped him, assuming he had gotten himself caught up with a stripper from the unusual name. Dean smirked at your innocent question, repeating again, she was a stripper. You looked over at him and gave him a glare before Adam continued. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I don’t like to go to strip bars. My buddy was having a bachelor party, and…there she was.”

“Jasmine.” You presumed, the man nodded his head.

Adam took a moment to be silent with a smile, the kind which you’d seen on Sam when he used to talk about Jess, even Dean during the times when he told you about how much he loved you. It was like he was infatuated with this Jasmine, more than his own deceased wife. "She came right up to me. And…I-I don’t know, s-she was just…” Adam stuttered out his words, seeming lost for thought from the beautiful face that plagued his mind, still to this day, momentarily making him forget about his wife all together. “Perfect. Everything that I wanted.”

“Well,” Dean had a feeling he knew where this was going to end. “You pay enough, anybody will be anything.”

“It wasn’t about the money. It wasn’t even about the sex. It was—I don’t know.” Adam was lost for words of how he could explain this feeling inside his chest. No words in the English dictionary could help describe what he felt when he saw Jasmine and connection both of them made without painting himself out to be a cheating husband that didn’t love his wife. “I don’t know what it was. It’s hard to explain.”

You furrowed your brow from how he was acting, “And your wife found out?”

“No,” Adam said. “She never had a clue.”

“Then why’d you kill her?” You asked him.

“For Jasmine. She said we would be together forever, if—if only J—Vicki was….” Adam stuttered out his confession, but he stopped himself, he didn’t have the courage to speak the words out loud. Dean raised his brow from the mess Adam had gotten himself to, and for the kick of it, you heard him say murder underneath his breath. “Afterwards, me and Jasmine were supposed to meet, and she never showed. I don’t know where she lives. I don’t know her last name. I don’t even know her real first name.” Adam realized the mess he’d gotten himself into because of his blinded lust, he hung his head low in shame. “I’m an idiot.”

“And you didn’t think to tell this to the cops?” You asked.

“What for? The stripper didn’t do it. And I know what I deserve.” Adam said. You could see a shift in his demeanor from what he was about to say next. It was like he’d do anything to protect Jasmine from getting in trouble. Even going the lengths of killing himself to stop something. You weren’t sure yet if it was from the guilt of his wife, or the other woman who landed him here in the first place. “Judge doesn’t give me the death sentence, I’ll just do it myself.”

\+ + +

You couldn’t help but think this case was starting to turn out into more than just a man killing his wife to be with the other woman. You skimmed the police reports of the other men while you rode in the Impala with Dean and to the coroner’s office where Sam had been. Nothing seemed to catch your attention that was different from Adam’s story and reason for murdering their wives. The both of you headed into the county mourage and followed the directions a friendly secretary gave you after asking. When you spotted the name on the door, you knocked lightly on the glass before opening up the door. You caught sight of the doctor, Cora Roberts, sitting at her desk with Sam occupying one of the chairs. You stepped inside and gave them both a friendly smile, knowing you’d caught them deep in conversation. And that familiar smile on Sam’s face was easy to detect something was going on here. More than he’d admit to later.

“Uh, these are my partners,” Sam introduced the two of you as you stepped inside the room with Dean following suit. You snagged the chair across from his little brother when you saw him head for the desk after spotting Cora. Wherever there was a pretty woman, Dean wouldn’t be far behind. You weren’t uncomfortable with him flirting with others, it was his nature—and especially funny to see him crash and burn in the process. “Agent Nelson and Murdock.”

“Please,” Dean cracked a smile at Cora, “'Agent’ sounds so formal. You can call me Dean.”

Most women would have flung themselves at him from that bit, graciously taking his hand to make this moment last long as possible. But Cora turned around in her office chair, grabbed a hold of Dean’s hand to give him a quick firm handshake, nothing more. “I’m Dr. Roberts.” She introduced herself before taking back her arm and twisted around in her seat, focusing her attention back on Sam. You bit your bottom lip and looked up at Dean, who was shocked from the lack of attention he was getting. “Can I help you with anything else?”

“Sure. Just one more thing. This chemical, this…” Sam trailed off, he handed back a case to Cora. She repeated a name for him that sounded like a chemical, he gave her a smile. “Oxytocin—what would cause those high levels that you found?”

“Nothing that I’ve ever seen.” Cora said, shaking her head slightly.

“Okay. That’s it. Thanks, Doc.” Sam wrapped up the conversation with another smile. You thanked the woman for her time before getting up from your chair, following behind Dean who was eager to get himself out of this office. The younger Winchester was hot on your heels, but as he stood in the doorway, he turned around to face Cora, deciding to give her some advice after seeing her with a migraine. “By the way, uh, try a greasy breakfast. Best thing for a hangover.”

“Watch it, Buddy.” Cora playfully warned him. “I’m the only M.D. here.”

Sam chuckled and nodded his head, stepping back so the door could swing back itself into place so the woman could get back to work. When you spotted that grin on his face, you broke out into a smile yourself, playfully elbowing him in the side from the subtle flirting they’d been doing. The both of you headed over to his brother, who wasn’t amused as you were about what happened. The three of you headed to the entrance of the hospital, catching up on what you learned from viewing the files of the other two men during your drive over here.

“So, Wylie and Snyder fessed up, huh?” Sam asked.

“One emptied his I.R.A., the other, his kid’s college fund—all on the same thing. Club called the Honey Wagon.” You explained, stepping out of the building after Dean held open the door for you, yet stepped back when Sam tried walking out after you. Not taking notice, you listened to when Sam presumed that these men were having affairs themselves with this mysterious Jasmine he’d heard so much about. “Mmm. Yes and No. This is where it gets interesting. Each guy hooked up with a different woman.”

“So, what,” Sam wondered, “These girls all connected somehow?”

“Well, they all described their stripper in the same way, the exact same way,” You said. “Perfect and everything that they wanted.”

“Yeah, at least they’ll dream Barbie convinced them to murder their wives.“ Sam said, seeming to start thinking there was something strange going on here. "You know, it’s almost like they’re under some kind of love spell. Which caused them to become totally psychotic.”

Dean nodded his head, agreeing with the conversation you and his brother were having. You glanced over at him, catching sight of his facial expression that suddenly change. He passed the Impala with his fingers dancing across the hood, you narrowed your eyes when a smile began to grow at the ends of his lips. “You seem pretty cheery.” You noted, heading over to the backseat door and wrapped your fingers around the cold handle. “What’s up with you?”

“Strippers, Y/N, strippers.” Dean said. “We are on an actual case involving strippers.”

You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, knowing there was just some things in a person you’d have to settle for. Opening up the backseat door, you gave him a warning look, knowing the three of you were on a case, and if he tried anything stupid you’d kick his ass. Dean could see your facial expressions change, and for reassurance, he gave you a playful wink, you returned it with a shake of the head. You settled yourself into the backseat and slammed the door shut, making the next stop at Honey Wagon Bar to talk to the employees—Jasmine, Belle and Ariel.

\+ + +

The place was crawling for it being only five in the afternoon. You’d made use of your time by ignoring the drooling men that were waving around twenty dollars bills into the air and rock music playing through the bar. You called Bobby to explain what was going on, the brothers busied themselves with talking to employees in order to see if they’ve heard of a worker with names that were clearly from the princess of Disney. What next, a stripper named Mulan? You wrapped up the conversation with Bobby before heading back inside the bar, making your way through the crowds until you spotted the brothers. Both of you met up at an empty table, curious to see what each of you found out.

“Any luck?” You asked them, your voice at shouting rage from the music.

“No.” Dean said, shaking his head. “You?”

“A little. I just talked to Bobby.” You explained. "We officially have a theory. A siren.”

“Like Greek-myth siren? Like 'The Odyssey’?” Dean presumed. You snapped your head over at him, a bit taken back from his knowledge that fell right off the tongue so naturally. He caught your expression that was full of surprise, as if you were expecting it from Sam. “Hey, I read.”

“Yeah, actually, but the siren’s not a myth.” You repeated the information Bobby told you during your conversation with him. “It’s more of a beautiful creature that prey on men, entice them with their siren song.”

"Let me guess—'Welcome to the Jungle’?” Dean presumed with a smirk at his light joke. “No, no. Warrant’s 'Cherry Pie’?”

“Cute, but no.” You said. “Their song is more of a metaphor—like their call, their allure, you know?”

“So they shake their thing and the guys zombie out?” Dean asked.

“Yeah Sirens live on islands. Sailors would chase them, completely ignoring the rocky shores, and dash themselves to pieces.” You said, your eyes trailing over to the me that were sitting at the edge of the stage, waving around bills as others eyed the passing women who were working here for tonight. “If you were a siren and looking to ruin a bunch of morons, where would you set up?”

This was a breeding ground for men who were desperate for a chance at happiness that cost them a pretty penny. To them, it was all worth it. You watched as a woman book a bundle of twenties from a young man, stuffing them into her lacy bra for safekeeping. “So, whatever floats the guy’s boat,” Dean’s voice brought your attention over to him, wondering what he was about to ask. “That’s what they look like?”

“Yeah. You see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most, and then they can kind of,” You tried explaining how it worked, knowing the information yourself was a bit confusing until you got the chance to look up a few things yourself. “Cloak themselves—You know, like an illusion.”

“So it could be all the same chick, morphing into different dreamgirls?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, actually. That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” You said. “Sirens are usually pretty solitary.”

“How do we kill it?” Dean asked you.

“Bobby’s working on it.” You answered. “But even if we figure it out…”

“How the hell are we gonna find it? It could be anybody.”

You had to admit this place was perfect for a siren; you could watch from the stage and work on finding a target, picking out ways to lure in the men one by one. The money she made while feeding off the victims was more than enough to keep anyone satisfied. But there was things about greed and lust—there was no end to feed the hunger, and when she got antsy, someone in this bar would be hauled off into handcuffs because of desire.

\+ + +

Mind you own business. That’s what Dean Winchester would be hearing from you if you were sitting right across from him, enduring the research of skimming through dusty books checked out from the local library. He sat alone at the table with a few books spread around him, neglected from his care as his focus centered on his little brother’s cell phone that sat in the crevice of an open book the man had been reading before he left with you. After getting word of another possible siren victim, you and Sam jumped on the opportunity to see if she was working her magic again. Sam had been in a hurry to get dressed and abandon research for an hour. It’d been forty five minutes since you left, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation his brother had the day before—and who the hell it was to. His eyes wandered around the room, trying his hardest to focus back on the book, but after a moment, when he heard the outside hallway absolutely quiet, Dean dropped his gaze back on the cellphone.

Dean couldn’t help himself but reach out an arm and snatch the phone from the book. He scrolled through the foreign screen until he found the list of calls his brother made. He saw his name, your name and Bobby’s. It was what he’d expect, knowing the list of contacts Sam frequented were short. But Dean’s interest peeked at the sight of an unfamiliar number he’d never seen before. Without even thinking, curiosity the best of him. He pressed down on a button to make a call to the number. He put the phone to his ear and heard it ring twice, when the other person picked up, Dean recognized the feminine voice from anywhere.

“Hey, Sam.” Ruby greeted, thinking she was speaking to the other Winchester. But she could tell there was something wrong when she didn’t hear his voice. “Sam? You there?”

Quick as the call started, Dean ended it before the demon could get more suspicious from what was happening. Dean retracted the phone from his ear and settled his elbow against the table for a moment, his attention lingering on the screen. He should have known his brother was still talking to the demon. But it still came to a surprise for him, and the conversation he heard yesterday morning about demon sightings, he knew nothing good would come if he tried asking Sam what it was all about. The man had been different since he arrived back from Hell. It wasn’t the demon blood or his freakishly new powers that was getting him worried. No, there was something off about him. Dean tightened his jaw and tossed the phone directly back to where he found it before pressing his clenched fist against his mouth.

The sounds of the lock on the motel door jiggled around as Dean glanced over to see the doorknob twisted before the door swung right open, Sam pulled out the key and glanced over at his brother. Speak of the Devil. You stepped inside the room after the man held open the door for you, when you spotted Dean still sitting where you left him, a smile spread across your lips, the kind that usually he would be grateful for to cheer up his day. But he only kept thinking about what he discovered. Still, Dean managed to give you both a nod, pretending that he was filled with boredom from the research he’d been stuck doing by his lonesome.

“Lenny Bristol was definitely another siren vic.” You said, giving him the update he expected to hear.

“You got in to see him?” Dean asked.

“Yup.” You answered. You walked over to one of the motel beds that was closest to Dean before dropping yourself to the edge. You couldn’t help yourself but kick off your heels, a sigh of relief falling from your lips at how the cold flooring soothed your aching muscles. “Said he brought a stripper home named Belle. Couple hours later, he offed his mother. Belle, of course, went M.I.A.”

“Wait,” Dean stopped you from what he heard. “He offed his mom?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Woman he was closest to.”

Dean nodded his head at the information he was hearing, it seemed to match up pretty well from the other victims he’d interviewed the other day. The room fell silent for just a moment before the sudden muffled sound of a cell phone ringing started echoing through the room. You recognized it as your own, Dean took the opportunity to subtly remind his little brother what he found. “Yeah, you, uh,” He reached out a hand to grab his brother’s phone, waving it around in the air. Sam gave his brother a confused expression. “Forgot your cellphone, Sammy.”

You pulled out your phone from your pocket, not taking notice of the conversation between brothers. Dean tossed his little brother his cell phone after he got himself up from his seat, heading across the room after he noticed Sam’s reaction. You answered the call, turning your attention over to the brothers, watching as Dean headed over to the other bed and Sam took his place in his brother’s seat. You greeted Bobby when you left him with a pause for a small fraction of time.

“Y/N, did you find her yet?” Bobby asked, curious to see how progress was going.

“No, and doesn’t seem like she’s slowing down anytime soon.” You admitted to the older hunter with a small sigh at the lack of own your progress to report on. “What about you? Got anything?”

“Well, some lore from a dusty Greek poem. Shockingly, it’s a little vague.” Bobby said. You got up from your seat on the bed and headed over to the empty seat across from Sam, saying something to Bobby about putting him on speaker so all of you could hear him. You pressed a few buttons before you put the phone down on the table, letting everyone hear what the man had found. Dean headed over with another cup of coffee in his hand. “It says you need ‘a bronze dagger covered in the blood of a sailor under the spell of the song.’”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked.

“You got me.” Bobby said. “We’re dealing with three thousand years of the Telephone game here.”

“Best guess?” Sam wondered, thinking the man might already have a theory.

“Well, the siren’s spell got nothing to do with any song. It’s most likely some kind of toxin or venom.” Bobby explained to the three of you. “Something she gets in the vics’ blood.”

“That makes them go all manchurian candidate.” Sam said. With the knowledge he learned from yesterday, he was starting to understand where the man was going on with this. “Uh, what do you think? She infects the men during sex?”

“Supernatural STD.” Dean mumbled, your nose scrunched at the thought.

 

“Well, however it happens, once it’s done, the siren’s got to watch her back.If she gets a dose of own medicine…“ Bobby trailed off for a moment, you thought out loud by saying it could kill her. You found a loophole to work with, but with a victory, there was another obstacle still waiting to be learned. "Like a snake getting iced by its own venom.”

"Some we just got to find a way to juice of of the O.J.’s in jail?” Dean asked.

“It’s not that easy. None of those guys are under the spell anymore. Haven’t got a clue where you’re gonna get the blood you need.” Bobby said, delivering the bad news that backed you into a corner for a moment. You thought this was going to be the dead end you were dreading, but Sam seemed to have an idea of where he could get his hands on some of the tainted blood. “Be careful, kids. These things are tricky bitches. Wrap you up in knots before you know what hit you.”

\+ + +

Sam suggested heading back to the hospital and swinging by the medical examiner’s office, knowing there was blood samples taken from the victim’s still hazy under the spell. It was worth a shot. You walked inside the familiar entrance of the building, your eyes jumping around the halls to see if you could find Cara around. Part of you was giddy about being back here again, knowing there was something between her and the younger Winchester that was undeniable, even how much he lied when you asked him during the ride back to the motel. The blush that crept along the apples of his cheeks told another story. You followed behind the boys to find the woman, it only took a moment when Sam spotted her across the hall with a handful of flies pressed to her chest, he called out her name, a smile spread across his lips to be friendly, but it involuntarily grew for other reasons he wouldn’t admit to later.

“Agent Stiles.” She greeted him, a smirk curled at the ends of her lips. “Can’t stay away, huh?”

Sam couldn’t help himself when that smile grew even bigger, showing off his teeth and dimples for a moment, as he looked over at you and Dean, his gaze dropped when he spotted you giving him a curious look, his brother rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Actually,” Sam adjusted his suit jacket and composed himself. “We’re here on business about the blood samples, the ones with the high…” He stopped himself for a moment, Cara raised a brow, letting him stumble for a moment before catching himself. “You know, oxytocin.”

“Do you still have them?” Dean asked her, jumping straight to the point. Cara took her gaze off the taller man for a moment before dropping it to Dean, she nodded her head to answer him. “Good. We need them.”

“What for?” She questioned him a bit suspiciously.

“Excuse me, Dr. Roberts?”

You cranked your neck upwards when you saw another tall body dressed in a suit coming forward, a man cautiously stepped over to the small crowd. Your eyes narrowed on the man, taking a presumption that he wasn’t a friendly hunter who made the same connection, but the real FBI you were currently posing. “Excuse me.” Dean gave the man a friendly enough of a smile as he dug inside his jacket pocket, pulling out the badge to show off who he was. “We’re a little busy here, buddy.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes dropped from the man’s face to see he was holding a familiar looking badge that read the real FBI. You swallowed, wondering why the real feds would be down here, wasting their time on such a case. “So am I, pal.”

 

“Doc, could you give us a sec, please?“ You asked her, putting your attention to the woman. She nodded her head, her eyes roaming around all of you, curious to see what was going on. When she turned around on her heels to head back to her office, you quietly thanked her before directing your full attention to the stranger in front of you. "What’s your name?”

“Nick Monroe.” He answered. “What’s yours?”

“I’m special agent Y/N Nelson. These are my partners—Sam Stiles and Dean Murdock.” You told him, nodding your head at the brothers when you introduced yourselves. You pulled out your own badge, letting him take a good look at it before putting it away. “What office are you from?”

“Omaha—Violent-Crimes Unit. My S.A.C.sent me down here to see about the murders.” Nick took his gaze away from the badge after taking a long moment to examine it. He still seemed to have been still suspicious, eyeing the three of you equally. “You?”

“D.C.” You said. “Our assistant director assigned us.”

“Which A.D?”

“Mike Kaiser.“

"What are your badge numbers?” Nick asked, you scoffed at what he was asking. You and the brothers were always prepared for something like this, going through a thousand different scenarios that could put a damper in a hunt. But this guy seemed to have been asking every question, pushing deeper into the nerve that was starting to stretch itself thin. All you needed was a simple blood sample, you rolled your eyes in frustration. “I’m just following protocol.”

“Look, man, whatever.” Sam said, giving the man exactly what he wanted to hear. He opened up his suit jacket and pulled out his wallet, where he slipped a business card over to Nick. “Just call our A.D. He’ll sort things out, huh?”

Nick happily took the business card from Sam’s awaiting hand, with a nod, you watched as he headed over to the other side of the building to make a private phone call. The joke would be on him soon. You quietly turned around in your spot on the floor until your back was turned to him when you felt the smallest smirk start spreading across the ends of your lips. Your assistant director was a tough man who hated it when he got bothered by civilians and their questions. Out of curiosity to see how the progress was going, you looked over your shoulder, hearing apologies and nods of the head from Nick. After a minute, the man hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket for safekeeping. You could almost see Bobby hanging up the phone himself, pissed off, mumbling something involving the infamous idjit insult he used on occasion when you and the brothers got yourselves into trouble.

“Well,” Nick gave you all a fraction of a smile as he started walking back over to apologize for the miscommunication between the three of you. “I’m sorry, guys.”

Sam shrugged it off as he took back his business card, you gave him a friendly enough of a smile, knowing he’d probably gotten his ass handed to him because of Bobby. Dean wasn’t quite as friendly to the man. “Just do let it happen again.” He subtly warned the man, he flashed a smile for good measure. “Where are you at with this?”

“I was about to run the perp’s blood work.” Nick said, glancing over to see where Cara went.

“I already checked.” Sam said. “It’s a dead end.”

“Well, get this–I feel like I found something that connects all the murderers. They were all banging strippers from the same club.” Nick explained what he learned while you pretended to become surprised at the news you were hearing. You crossed your arms over your chest at the lead he’d gotten, which you already knew from yesterday. It was sort of amusing to see the police think a human could have been at fault for these crimes. “What do you say we go down there and check it out?”

“Well, here’s the thing, Nick.” Dean pretended to take the kind offer, knowing he didn’t mess with any sort of uniform unless it was necessary. If Nick was another hunter, he might have taken the helping hand. But he decided to lay it out for him in a way the other man would understand. “See, we’re kind of lone wolves—”

"You know what? That sounds like an excellent idea. Just give me a second with my partners.” You cut off the man as you placed a hand on his arm, your attention never lingering away from Nick. Dean glanced down at you as he licked his lips, frustration settling in from what you were trying to do. You glanced up at him, knowing well enough Dean wasn’t pleased, you gripped his jacket and lightly pulled him across the room. You looked over your shoulder to see that Nick was keeping himself occupied by focusing something across the room as Sam wondered what you were doing. You directed your attention to Dean as you dropped your voice into a whisper. “You got to say with Nick. Keep him out of the way.”

Dean furrowed his brow at your plan, “Why me?”

“Because Sam has to get the blood samples.” You said to him.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with him, Y/N?” Dean questioned you, you rolled your eyes at his stubbornness.

“I don’t know…Take him to the strip club. That way you and I can keep an eye out for the siren.” You said. The mention of the club would have gotten a smile or even a glint in Dean’s eye, but all you were rewarded with was a sharp sigh of annoyance. You looked over your shoulder to scan the room, knowing flirting wasn’t permitted when you were working a job. But during times like this, when he was acting stubborn headed, you knew it did the trick for him. “Come on, Dean, just focus on me and the naked girls…you’ll forget he’s even there.” 

“Fine. I’m not doing this for Sam. I’m doing this for you and the naked girls.” Dean said. Your lips stretched into a victorious smirk. “When this is done, you owe me. Big time, sweetheart.”

You nodded your head and outstretched your arm, letting him shake on the proposal he’d set up. Dean was an introverted man when it came to working on hunts, but there was a few things he’d roll over for. Free booze, pie and a chance alone at getting his hands on you. You looked over your shoulder and directed your gaze at Sam, letting him know things were back on track.

\+ + +

“We’re taking my ride. No complaining about the tunes.”

Dean listed off the ground rules for the newcomer that he didn’t even want around. You trailed behind the men, giving yourself a chance to roll your eyes at how the Winchester was acting. You stepped down from the sidewalk and took your usual seat in the back, letting Nick take the passenger’s side for his own comfort. As you reached to open the backseat door, you stopped and looked up at the man when he examined the car, seeming impressed at what he was about to step into. You shielded your eyes from the sun and watched as his lips stretched into a grin, his gaze taking in everything about the vehicle that was parked right in front of him.

“No way. You drive an Impala? It’s a’67, right? It’s a 327-4 barrel.” Nick said, seeming to know his stuff about cars. Dean stopped his in tracks, he nodded his head at the man, seeming rather impressed at the information he knew. Nick stepped back to examine the car even better. “It’s a thing of beauty. How the hell did you talk the bureau into letting you drive your own wheels?”

“I’ve got my ways.” Dean answered the man.

Dean opened up the driver’s side door of the car and slipped himself inside, you and Nick following in suit. So far the man was getting on his good side, complementing his car and knowing information most didn’t know about. For another added test, Dean turned on the engine and reached out a hand to turn on the radio, starting up the music he’d listened to on the way here. He looked over at Nick to see his reaction, and pleasantly, the man grew a smirk, seeming to enjoy the band that was playing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, the Winchester thought to himself.

\+ + +

This probably wasn’t part of the job of being a real fed, but it seemed Nick wasn’t complaining and Dean was probably in heaven right now. You’d gotten used to the atmosphere of Honey Wagon, after arriving over an hour ago, ignoring the men that were waving around money into the air, wanting to grab the woman’s attention that was on stage right now. There was a full house today, which you wondered if it was always like this, crawling with bodies that would do anything to have a good time. You leaned back in your seat and pushed away the shot the waitress brought over, knowing you weren’t the one to drink on a job. You snagged Dean’s keys after he took the first shot with Nick, knowing it was better to play it safe and not break the acutal law. You shrugged off your jacket a long time ago and draped it over the seat, with the sleeves of your dress shirt rolled up to your elbows and a few buttons undone to help get yourself comfortable.

Dean hissed at the familiar burning sensation that went down his throat after taking a shot, Nick slammed the glass to the table, a throaty laugh escaping him from what was happening. You glanced over at the men, seeming to notice both of them were relaxed from their ties being pulled loose and a button undone. “I got one.” Dean said, keeping up the game of songs they’d been discussing since arriving here. Nick, of course, was a big fan of classic rock, claiming to know just about everything. Dean was ready for the challenge. “'Nobody’s Fault but Mine.’”

“Oh, oh, oh, Zeppelin recorded it, '75.” Nick said, he snapped his fingers, trying to remember the rest of the information the man was waiting for. “It was a cover of a Blind Willie Johnson tune.”

Dean broke into a grin at the answer, “Nice.”

“”You Shook Me.’” Nick said, giving the man another challenge.

"Oh, '69, debut album, written by Willie Dixon.” Dean answered with a point of the finger.

“And?”

“And, what?”

“Written by Willie Dixon and,” Nick corrected the man with a cocky grin. “J.B. Lenoir.”

The man was good, that was for sure. You looked away from the growing crowd when Dean slammed his fist against the table, making the empty glasses shake from impact. Dean seemed to be having the time of his life, the grin across his face was something you hadn’t seen in a long time. “Dude. Dude! You know, for a fed, you’re not a total dick.” Dean said, accidentally slipping out his words. You narrowed your eyes at him, making a comment about all of you being feds, the man caught himself. “Yeah. No, I just, you know—not a lot of feds as cool as us, huh?”

“So, what the hell is with this case, man? How does a girl talk four different Johns into murder?” Nick asked, finally getting the conversation back around to the reason why the three of you were here in the first place. You shrugged your shoulders, curious for his theory. Out of fabit, you examined the bar once more, watching the normal behavior of whistling men and dancing, but you narrowed your eyes on a woman that seemed suspicious to you. She was leaning over and speaking into a man’s ear, it wasn’t helping when she spotted your lingering gaze, her face dropped in a split second of panic. You watched as she turned her attention back to the man, she gave him one quick seductive smile before she was off into the sea of bodies. “Hey, can I level with you both? I found something kind of weird.”

“Well,” You looked over at Nick, “You brought your weird to the right place.”

“I went to the crime scene this morning. Saw them bagging this up.” Nick said. He placed a clear evidence bag to the table, pushing it over to you to take a first inspection of what he found. You noticed that they were flowers, a light lilac sort of shade, three petals were in the bottom. “So I went back through all the files. It turns out a flower just like that was found at every crime scene.”

“It was left on purpose?” You asked him, sliding the bag over to Dean so he could take a look.

“I mean, you know, sometimes a serial killer will leave an object behind, like a calling card. But with this case? To tell you the truth,” Nick leaned back in his seat, sharing what he really felt about the case. “I got no idea what’s going on.”

Dean examined the flowers for a moment, he wondered why they looked so familiar to him. When he realized what it was and the connection, his face dropped, you called out his name when you spotted his worried expression. “I think I might.” Dean said. You raised a brow from what he admitted. “I’ve seen a flower like this before.”

\+ + +

“I think you’re jumping the gun here, Dean.”

You sat in the empty motel room with your laptop propped open to several different tabs and a few discarded books around you. Dean was here twenty minutes ago, helping you research a possible lead of who he thought the siren could be. He gave you some information to look up, pertaining to the flowers that Nick had found on the crime scene, hyacinths—Mediterranean plants from the island where the siren myth started in the first place. You tried telling him they were quite popular in the states for gifts and easy house plants for people. But Dean wasn’t having it. He made the connection that Cara just so happened to have the flowers in her office. Sam wasn’t answering his phone, and Dean was going off the deepend at this small, very fragile, lead.

“Listen to me, Y/N.” Dean’s growled his words at you, frustration settling in his tone from the lack of trust you were giving him. “You did the research on her. She’s only been in town for two months. And she has an ex-husband. A dead ex-husband—Carl Roberts. Dropped like a stone, no warning. Supposedly a heart attack.”

"Well,” You shuffled around a few papers as the phone stayed on speaker, knowing what you were about to say was going to piss him off even more. “Maybe it was a heart attack.”

Dean let out a scoff from what he was hearing, “You’re kidding me.”

“Look, I just don’t think it’s her.” You said, trying to keep yourself calm from the argument that was happening between the both of you. You reached out a hand to grab the pen you’d been previously writing with, your fingers wrapped tight around the plastic coding when Dean had the audacity to ask you why you were so sure. “I don’t know. A hunch, I guess.”

“A hunch? I’m giving you cold, hard facts here sweetheart, and you’re giving me a hunch?” Dean asked you, wondering what was going on with you. You rolled your eyes, bending the pen tighter until it threatened to snap in your grip. The line went silent for a moment, you tossed the pen to the table, giving up on keeping yourself calm. “You purposely set them up, didn’t you?”

"No.” You snapped at him, rolling your eyes in frustration.

“Holy crap. You did. Middle of 'Basic Instinct’ and you let Sam walk right into the trap to bang Sharon Stone. Sam could be never her spell right now. You could be in danger.” Dean said. You knew it was your turn to scoff, if he was so worried about your safety he’d be here right now, protecting you like the good boyfriend you thought he was. You looked over your shoulder to see the motel room door was locked, nobody could get in. “Unbelieveable, Y/N. I just don’t get it.”

Your head whipped to the phone when you heard Dean, “What?”

“Nothing.” Dean mumbled, trying to back himself out.

“No, no. Say it.” You demanded to him. The line was still silent. “Spit it out, Dean.”

“No, it’s just—first it’s Madison, and then Ruby, and now Cara.” Dean said, knowing he was playing with fire at what he was going to say to you. But it was the heat of the moment, the consequences didn’t catch up to him just yet. “It’s like what’s with you helping Sam get with all the wrong girls? They’re all monsters.”

You could feel your jaw tightening from what he’d said, you pressed down so hard on your teeth, an ache settled in after a moment. You tried thinking logically of the right way to get this conversation back on track, but you couldn’t at the moment. You said the first thing that came to mind. “Maybe that the jealousy talking, Dean. Sammy getting a sweet and nice girl who happens to have a bad streak in them. Maybe it’s because you still think I’m normal. Or…” You trailed off for a second, your voice dropping into a venomous tone from what you were about to say. “Maybe it’s because you don’t know how to admit that you’re no better than them.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know what it means.”

Dean’s voice dropped to a quiet tune, “You think I’m a monster?”

“If the shoe fits.” You said, shrugging your shoulders from the casual tone of voice. “And if you keep acting like you’re better than them. Did you forget Madison chose to kill herself to save other people from being harmed. Or that Ruby has been trying to help Sam. And Cara isn’t the siren.”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, Y/N.” Dean grumbled at you.

“No. It’s just hurts having to hear the truth, Dean. You keep thinking that you’re better than everyone—that you’re some saint because God saved you from Hell. You think that each hunt and the lives you save contradicts what you did in Hell. It doesn’t.” You said, laying the truth out for him. “So if you want to chase a dead end, fine by me. Why don’t you call up your buddy Nick and see if he want to help you hurt another innocent person.”

“Dammit, Y/N—”

“Screw you, Dean.”

Before he could respond, you hung up the phone.

\+ + +

Dean shouldn’t trust outsiders. Growing up in the hunting lifestyle, the rule had been burned in the back of his brain. His father taught him that everyone he passes could be an enemy, with the silent urge to kill him. His father taught him a lot of useful things. But the lessons were starting to tear apart the relationships with the people around him. He was always told to fear the unknown and kill anything that wasn’t good, even if there was no warnings now, it would be better to keep others safe. Just in case. Dean always did whatever his father told him to do. Except for the man’s dying wish. That…that was too much. The task he was told before John kicked the bucket burned in the back of his mind, lingering around for months like a dark cloud that was silently brewing until the truth came tumbling out one afternoon.

Kill your little brother, boy. Just in case.

When he first heard the request, Dean felt violently sick to his stomach, wondering why his own father, the man he’d done everything and anything for, would burden him with such a heavy task. For a while Dean thought the man deserved to burn in Hell for thinking his youngest son could turn into the kind of a monster they hunted. Sam was a goofball, his only real act against their father had been the year he ran off to college and pretend neither one of them existed. But Sam changed for the better. He gotten sucked into the hunting lifestyle after Jess was killed, that little ounce that thirsted for normality was crushed, just like his family. He was the hunter their father would be proud of. Dean sometimes regretted not choosing his own father to rip apart in Hell after taking the opportunity. But after coming back from the pit…he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Dean tried his hardest to keep himself civil when it came to his little brother, the new and improved man. His grief for you and Dean turned him into something he never thought would become—a superhuman freak that was using the demon blood that had been pumping in his veins for over twenty six years. At first it was the visions, Dean could handle that for the most part. But it was sleeping with the enemy and exorcising demons that made his skin crawl. Dean wondered if his father, the obsessed bastard who spent decades looking for a single demon, was actually onto something all those years ago. He wondered if the man could put a loaded gun to Sam’s head if he saw the man pull a demon straight out of a poor schmuck. Dean really wanted to know if the man would keep to his word if he knew that his wife was to blame for the monster Sam became.

Adjusting around in his seat, Dean tried his very hardest not to focus on anything else but wrapping up this damn hunt. Not the fact he’d gotten into a vicious argument with you to the point where the both of you shared heated words that stung. But things didn’t improve when he gotten ahold of his little brother like he wanted. Both of you were so adamant that Cara couldn’t have been the siren. Sam said that he felt perfectly fine, you didn’t believe the information that you found was decent enough to go after the woman. A very small voice in Dean’s mind was saying that it was better to listen, pull back and think this one through. But he didn’t. Dean got himself into the Impala and called someone else that had come to a shock, Nick Monroe, the real FBI agent who was working this case. It didn’t take an afternoon of bonding at the stripclub and a love of classic rock that made his decision. It was the innocent urge between one another to get this case shut for good, put the bad guy away once and for all.

Pulling into the bar’s parking lot, Dean made sure to keep the Impala parked at a safe distance, knowing Nick was waiting for him. He’d spotted the rental model that blended into the darkness of the night, still with the clear view of the entrance. Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and scanned the area, cautiously looking around to see if Cara was around, but all he spotted was an older couple walking hand in hand to the bar, smiles and light conversation amongst them. He headed forward to the car and opened up the passenger’s side door, he dropped himself down to the seat and slammed the door shut, Nick greeted him with news he was expecting to hear.

“She just went in a second ago.” Nick said. He peered over his seat, observing the couple that walked in, as the door painfully slow started to close, he waited to see if he could find Cara, but all he spotted was bodies before it slammed shut behind them. “Should we follow her in?”

“No, no, no. I don’t want to tip her off.” Dean explained his reasoning to the man. “I just want to see who she comes out with.”

“So you think, what,” Nick asked, trying to make sense of why Dean called him in the first place and neither one of his other partners were around to help. “She’s drugging all these guys?”

"Pretty much.” Dean answered. His gaze drifted away from the entrance of the doorway for a moment when Nick fell silent, pushing them both to the part where Dean dreaded when it came to working with civilian on cases that he should be wrapping up with his little brother and girlfriend, like how it’s always been for years now. Thanks to a misunderstanding in judgement, the man landed himself here. It was the lack of trust and ignorance of what they both were really hunting that drove Dean insane. Nick sat there silent as he slowly nodded his head back and forth. Before the man could verbally speak his doubt, the Winchester tried covering his tracks. “I know how it sounds.”

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause it sounds like crazy on toast. All these different strippers—they’re magically the same girl. But then they’re not strippers at all,” Nick made his suspicions clear enough when he tried summarizing what he’d been thinking since the phone call with Dean. He shrugged his shoulders, giving him the real kicker that sure would get the man asking questions about what he really was thinking about putting the medical examiner at fault for these crimes. “It’s Dr. Quinn?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain, but I have my reasons, and they’re good ones. So you’re just gonna have to trust me on it.” Dean wasn’t going to give the man his real reasoning. Instead he gave the trust to one more person, the slightest hopeful it wouldn’t sink, Nick wouldn’t start asking questions about what was really going on, or if he really was part of the law. The man was silent for a moment, but surprisingly, in a turn of events, Nick started nodding his head, agreeing with the man and his shady plan of action. It took Dean by shock. A stranger gave him assurance for going through with a sketchy plan than his own flesh and blood. “Thank you. That’s actually nice to hear.”

Dean snuck a hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver flask. For once it wasn’t filled with holy water, but whisky for the long night ahead of him and Nick. He twisted off the cap and shamelessly took a swing in front of the agent, and after swallowing down a sip, he offered some to the man to be polite. Nick looked down at the flask and chuckled, acting like a bunch of boys who were in hiding, sneaking sips of stolen liquor from their parents. Both knew it was wrong to be drinking on a job, but after tonight, Dean needed something to get through this stakeout. Nick graciously took a sip, quietly hissing at the warm feeling that slipped down his throat with ease before handing it back to Dean so the man could take his share.

“So, let’s say she is drugging her vics.” Nick said. He kept the conversation going as he silently sat there, observing in the darkness as Dean took another swing, not knowing what laid around the rim of the bottle. “How’s she pulling that off?”

“She could be injecting them, you know,“ Dean hypothesized an idea he’d been working on. Nick dropped his gaze to the flask, his lips stretching into the faintest smirk from what the man said next. The hunter was smart, that was for sure. "Or passing the toxin through physical contact.”

“Or it could be her saliva.” Nick gave the man another possible idea, knowing it would be a matter of seconds until the toxins kicked in. Dean nodded his head for a moment, not processing what the man said, but when it did, his gaze slowly drifted to the flask he was holding, a moment of panic washed through his system from what was about to happen. The threat he warned to his little brother about getting under the siren’s spell, it had turned around on him by his own sheer ignorance at chasing a lead that was in front of him all along. “You really should have wiped the lip of that thing before you drank from it, Dean. I should be your little brother. We should be trying to get rid of Y/N.”

“Y/N…” Dean whispered out your name underneath his breath, his voice was full of uncertainty.

Nick titled his head to the side, knowing there was still a scrap of sense still lingering in the man’s head, it always happened when the siren dug deep, finding the closest person they loved. To the siren’s pleasure, Dean had a few she could play with. “You can’t trust them. Not like you can trust me.” He cooed the words to the hunter, watching as the hunter’s facial expressions finally changed, his mind twisting around the urge to hunt to the people he tried protecting from her. There was no more need to worry when the siren got her hands on Sam, that’s when the fun she’d been craving would begin. “In fact, I really feel like you should get them both out of the way so that we can be family…forever.”

“Yeah.” Dean whispered to himself for a moment. The man look straight ahead out of the window, suddenly wondering why he felt so damn guilty of letting the last conversation with you and Sam end in a fight. Neither one of you believed him, not like Nick. He blinked and thought about ending the relationship with you. It’d been so complicated ever since it began, his mind filled with so many thoughts he wanted to say to you. He changed his mind about everything. “Yeah, you’re right.”

\+ + +

You were greeted yet again with the same screen after you unlocked your phone, the slightest bit hopeful you were going to see a missed phone call or a text message from Dean. But you didn’t. It’d been pushing over an hour since you’d gotten off the phone from him and said all those nasty things. You tried calming your guilt that was gnawing restlessly in your stomach by reminding yourself that couples fight. Everyone says mean things to their significant other when times were stressful. You and Dean had faced several weeks of bitterness since coming back from Hell and even after he admitting things to you that you’d thought was some hallucination you worked up. After spending a little over a month from him, and a few rough hunts, it seemed the both of you were on a recovery to making things work like you wanted. Maybe things could work out like you’d hope. But all it took was a misjudgement in his decision and a few harshful words before you landed back at square one.

You let out a frustrated sigh from the lack of communication from everyone. Sam wasn’t picking up his phone and Dean clearly wasn’t in a rush to patch things up. You might have been jumping the gun here, but with everyone high on tension, you pulled someone else into the fight. Bobby was like a father to the three of you; he always was there when you needed him. And always willing to put you back in line after jumping off the deepend. Of course, he wasn’t even answer the damn phone. You left him a voicemail about everything that was happening, subtly pleading for someone to help get everything back to normal. Just the thought of the mess ahead for you cause you to press the cold can to your head after the first strike of pain thrashed against your skull.

You tried keeping yourself occupied by skimming through several different books and somehow go through the case files again on your laptop would help. You wondered if there was possibly anything you brushed over in the police reports, a small piece of evidence the siren missed by accident, that little mistake could crack down who the hell was doing all of this. But all the multitasking still wouldn’t leave your rushing thoughts. You gave yourself a break by stepping out of the motel room to swing outside and grab something to drink from one of the vending machines outside. A bit of fresh air helped calm your restless nerves for a bit. But you stopped in the middle of the empty hallway, resting the can against your head, hopeful you could cure this headache before anything else could get worse tonight.

“Y/N?” Your eyes snapped open from the familiar voice that speaks your name, dragging you away from your small moment of peace. You look to see that Sam was standing in front of you, now dressed in his regular clothing, he’s staring at you with a rather confused look from what you were doing. For whatever reason, maybe it’s the precaution, you look at him, wondering if Dean was right about his little brother. Sam takes your lingering gaze as what it was and rolls his eyes from what you were thinking. “I feel fine, all right?”

“I know, I know. Dean already ripped me a new one tonight.” You said, dropping your voice to a whisper for a moment when you felt the headache starting to turn into a full blown migraine. Lately when you became too stressed, or angry for that matter, you could feel a nasty consequence starting to kick in from the work of emotion you put yourself through. “Please tell me you’ve got some lead on who this siren is.”

“No.” Sam admitted to you, giving a small glimpse of the bad news he had in store for you. A frustrated sigh escaped from your mouth from how this night was going. The man decided to give pity on for the meantime, knowing the worst about what he needed to discuss was only beginning. There was still the missing blood vials of the men once under the spell and patching things up with Dean after he got back. Sam focused on the problem in front of the both of you. “But I got something that might help your head. Come on.”

You dropped your hands to your side and gave him a faint smile, knowing if there was anything that Sam knew best, it was the migraines that felt like someone was punching the inside of your skull. He’d suffered from them frequently when he’d first gotten a dose of what he could with the demon blood. You passed it off as nothing more than stress from the hunt that was going haywire. There was no possible leads jumping out at you and Dean was off on his own, about to possibly add another body to the count from his ignorance of not listening to people. Sam shoved the key to his motel room as you waited silently behind him, you heard the faint lock clicking into place as he pushed open the door. You stepped inside after him, the room after him, out of habit, you scanned the room to see if Dean was around, but it was someone else that caught your attention.

“Nick,” Sam greeted the man sitting on the edge of the motel bed with a rather confused tone of voice. You leaned over to see that Nick was casually occupying the room, his leg crossed over the other, like he was waiting for someone, not knowing it was the both of you. Your attention drifted away for a moment when you noticed something small in his hand, he twisted it around, making you catch sight of hues of light purple. “What are you doing here?”

You didn’t get your answer to the question the way you hoped for. It was the sudden slamming of the motel door that caught you off guard, making you drop what you were holding and flinch when something cold and sharp pressed itself against the hollow of your throat. Before you could react at what was going on, someone pinned down your arms, making you press your backside against their front. The both of you hit the back of the door, with the knife to your throat, all you could do was hold still, hoping your attacker wouldn’t make any moves. But when you heard his name, the one who’d been worried about for the past few hours, come from Sam’s mouth in a warning tone, you knew what was going on. Dean was behind you, the man you’d loved to death, who swore he would do nothing to harm you, was holding a knife to your throat.

“I got to tell you,” Sam remarked with a venomous tone, his attention never leaving Nick as the man pushed himself up to his feet. He knew there wasn’t much he could do at the moment. One wrong move and you’d be dead, just like how the siren wanted it all along. His brother showed no signs of guilt or remorse, just a cold glare in his eye. “You’re one butt-ugly stripper.”

“Well, maybe. But I got exactly what I wanted.” Nick said, his lips stretching into a victorious smirk at the sight of everything that had unfolded like he wanted. You tried your hardest to somehow fight your way out of this one, Dean proved himself stronger than you. “I got Dean.”

“Dean, come on. This isn’t you.” You tried your hardest to remain calm, hoping a peaceful voice could somehow lull him back into reality of what was going on. He didn’t listen, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t stop pleading with him. “You can’t fight this. Let me go.”

Nick stepped forward to the man, knowing the man you’d grown to love was gone, replaced with infatuation with the creature standing next to him. Before he gave a demonstration, the siren looked over at Sam, giving him a subtle warning that this could go far, far worse. “Why don’t you cut her just a little on her neck right there?” He whispered the command, pointing at the spot with his finger. Dean listened like a good little soldier. You hissed out in pain when you felt the blade sink into your skin, giving a slight sting before pulling away, you could feel the familiar trickle of blood drip down your neck from the cut. Your eyes looked over at Nick when he watched your reaction, he grinned at the sight of you. “Dean’s all mine.”

“You bitch.” You snarled at him when you realized what was going on with Dean. “You poisoned him.”

“No, I gave him what he needed. It wasn’t some slut in a g-string or you, Y/N. He needed something stronger than some simple filling. It was you, Sammy.” Nick said. You furrowed your brow at his answer, your eyes slowly trailed over to the man that was right across from you. “A little brother that looked up to him that he could trust. And now he loves me. He’d do anything for me. And I got to tell you, Sam, that kind of devotion—watching someone kill for you…is the best feeling in the world.”

"Is that why you’re slutting all over town?” Sam asked, a scoff coming out from the excuse he was hearing.

“Oh. I get bored. Like we all do.” Nick said, having the audacity to stand there and act innocent. Like nothing was wrong in destroying the eight lives he destroyed to get that little high. Each couple was a better peek, but when it wasn’t enough, he drove in closer to another relationship with family, having another type of bound that wasn’t like anything else. And you were sure he was having fun with the group of hunters that were here to kill him. You stared at him with the deadliest glare you could muster up, still considering your circumstances in the process. “And I want to fall in love again and again and again.”

“Tell you what, I have fought some nasty sons of bitches,” Sam admitted, letting out a forced chuckle to keep himself from snapping and attacking the man like he wanted to end this situation before it could get worse. “But you are one needy, pathetic loser.”

Nick gave him a smirk, “You won’t feel that way in a minute.”

Neither one of you processed what they meant before it was too late to stop. You could feel the knife being lifted from your throat for a second, but Dean quickly shoved you backwards into the door, making your head bang against the wood and vision go blurry. You clutched your head for a moment as you laid against the wall, trying your hardest to process what was going on. For a split second you could someone shout and protest, but there was silence that followed. You opened your eyes, trying to make the bodies that were standing in front of you stop moving around so much. You blinked and watched as everything finally stopped moving around so much, but as you came back down into reality, something shifted in the air, warning you that there was a problem awaiting your attention.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you examined the brothers, who were now standing at opposites sides of the room, both sharing a similar look that made a shiver run down your spine. Dean wasn’t only the one infected, his little brother somehow gotten a taste of the poison himself. It was that look in his eye, something sinister was rushing through his veins, and it wasn’t the demon blood this time. Nick stepped backward, knowing his entire plan had come full circle, he left you vulnerable, pinned against two men that taught you everything you new. Not to mention they were twice in size and a look in your eye that was starting to make you feel uneasy.

“So, I know you two have a lot you want to get off your chests. A lot of rage you’ve been

to get out. So why don’t you discuss it, clear the air until you feel better.” He suggested it to the brothers. He took small steps backwards to the bed, you swallowed when he looked over at you. A smirk spread across his lips when you realized he wasn’t going to kill just you. He’d wanted to see who was worth his time. “Don’t forget. Whoever survives can be with me…forever.”

“Guys,” You manage to find your voice again. Still, you’re hopeful that if you get through to them, if there’s still a shrivel left of consciousness buried deep, they’ll snap out of this and realize they were about to make a huge mistake. “Come on. This isn’t you—”

“No. Maybe you’re right, Y/N. Maybe I am a monster.” Dean starts off the conversation, you are quickly drawn to silence when you see him lift the blade to your direction. You can see there’s no emotion in his eyes from what he admits to first. “Do you know how good it felt when I picked up that knife and carved into you? Man, I admit. It felt amazing. I honestly can’t believe I wasted so much time feeling sorry for myself for what I did. You deserved everything that was coming to you. Because if you just listened to me, I wouldn’t have ended up there. And come back to this.” The attention in the room switches over to his little brother. “I don’t really know when it happened. Maybe when I was in Hell. Maybe when I was staring right at you. But the Sam I knew, he’s gone.“

“That so?” Sam asks with a snarky tone.

"It’s not the demon blood or the psychic crap. It’s the little stuff—the lies, the secrets.” Dean said, finally letting his true feelings out into the air. You watched from the sidelines, sort of like a silent audience, watching as months of feelings are brought to life, knowing there is nothing holding back the men while they are under the spell. Sam seems to deny everything, brushing off his brother’s accusation with a chuckle, asking about what secrets. “Phone calls to Ruby, for one.”

“So I need your say-so to make phone call?” Sam questions his brother.

“That’s the point. You’re hiding things from me. What else aren’t you telling me?“ Dean questioned his little brother, his tone was growing harsher at the lack of information he was getting. Sam smirked to himself, knowing he wasn’t going to answer that, either. “See what I mean? We used to be in this together. We used to have each other’s backs!”

"Okay, fine. You want to know why I didn’t tell you about Ruby? And how we’re hunting down Lilith? Because you’re too weak to go after her, Dean. You’re holding me back. I’m a better hunter than you are—stronger, smarter. I can take out demons you’re too scared to go near.” Sam decides to lay all of his confessions right out, not cutting any corners to what he’s been up to, and how he feels about his brother now. Dean brushes off the shot that goes to his ego, rolling his eyes. But Sam’s not done yet. “You’re too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, whining about all the souls you tortured in Hell. Boo-hoo. You know what I really can’t stand about you? How you look at Y/N like she’s so perfect.”

You furrowed your brow from what he was saying, now the conversation was turning into something you didn’t want to hear. "Sam…” You gave him a warning, he took it as an opportunity.

“It’s like you’ve got everyone fooled into thinking you’re little Miss. Perfect.” Sam rambled on, like he doesn’t seem to understand the consequences of his actions. “I knew there was something off about you for a while now. But I kept it to myself, because I was trying to be nice. Not anymore. Not when my own brother looks at me like like I’m a freak. He’s so caught up in his own guilt for what he did he to you. Or maybe he’s just caught up in some stupid fantasy. I mean,“ His lips are trying to decide if he wants to frown or smirk from what he said next. "He always made fun of me for wanting a normal life. Now he’s wastes his time finds some flaw in the women I like. But he’s the biggest hypocrite out there.”

You could hear his emotions come through his voice, clear as day. You weren’t sure if it was the poison working through him that was making him say all these things. But it wasn’t hard to see that the fight was about to begin, you were the grand prize, the woman that was closest to them, but also the one standing in their way to pleasing Nick. You knew Sam was ready to get this easy fight started from the look that settled in his eye. The man forgot for a moment that he wasn’t the only one competing, for the knife that was thrown in his direction, Dean made it clear he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than his little brother. And he wasn’t going down without a fight.

All hell had broken loose; you watched as the brothers began throwing punches, trying whatever they could to get the other one down. You frantically looked around the room to see if there was anything to get this fight broken up and Nick dead like he should have been. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the fight that was getting worse with each passing moment. You winced at the sight of Dean flying backward, his brother pushing him into the decorate piece of furniture.

“You’re not standing in my way anymore.” Sam threatened the man, stalking over.

Dean laid on the ground to catch his breath, watching as his little brother contemplated for a moment of how he wanted to finish this fight once and for all. He bent down and shoved the older man to his feet, when he drew back his arm to throw a punch, Dean uppercut the man, making him stumble backward. It took several hard punches and swings before Sam was the one who fell the ground. You tried your hardest to be quiet, thinking if you’d snuck up from behind, you might be able to take Dean by surprise. Your fingers wrapped themselves tightly around the handle of the knife, but after you accidentally stepped on a fragile piece of wood, it was all over. Dean turned around his spot to see that you were a few feet away from him. Nick got himself up from the bed, wondering what the man was going to do next. You swallowed your regret and drew back your arm, getting ready to take a swing at the man. Dean went running forward, and before you knew it, he was shoving you back into the motel door.

There was a banging sound of the wood breaking off its hinges from the weight being pressed against it. But it was Dean’s six foot frame that crushed you, reducing you into a crumpled mess on the floor after you realized he’d body slammed you into the ground. The wind had been knocked out of your lungs as you tried your hardest to recover from the pain. It wasn’t fast enough when Dean gotten up from you and brushed the incident like nothing. He was now towering over you, wondering what he could use to kill you first, before moving on to his little brother to finish the tas at hand.

“Dean, please.” You found your voice, small and fragile as it was, you weren’t going to die like this. He didn’t seem to care about how familiar this felt to you. You cranked your sore neck upwards to see that he’d disappeared from your sight for a moment. His attention was taken off you for a moment after he caught sight of a glass display case that held a fire axe for emergencies only. Dean thought this was close enough. He shoved an elbow into the glass, grabbing a hold of the weapon, making you realize he was about to kill you. You nervously swallowed and tried your hardest to move, but the pain was still too much for you to handle. “This isn’t you! Fight it, damnit!”

“Don’t listen to her.” Nick said, grabbing the man’s attention when he hesitated for the slightest second. He stood there with the axe looming in the air, waiting for the command to do what he’d been dying for ever since becoming tempted. “Do it for me, Dean.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let fear glaze over in your eyes, suddenly feeling like you were back in Hell, Dean taking command to whatever he was told to do. He was about to kill you, and he wasn’t even the least bit hesitant. “Tell me again how monster of a monster I am, Y/N.” Dean hissed at you, his tone was cold and full of anger. “How I hurt you so much. You deserve it. Hell, you deserve this.”

You let out a noise that almost sounded like scream when you saw Dean swing up the axe, it was your last attempt at trying to get yourself out of this situation. Still, there was no connecting the consequence about what he was about to do. He swung up the axe further upwards and aimed for your neck, knowing it would take one clean swing to do permanent damage. Before the weapon could touch you, someone stopped him from making the worst decision of his life. You propped open one eye when you felt no pain rushing through your body, ever so slowly, you lifted down your arms to see Bobby, struggling to keep Dean from taking another swing. He took a stab at the younger hunter when Dean tried to overpower him, shoving the knife he’d been holding into his shoulder, painting the blade with his tainted blood.

When Nick realized his plan was about to backfire on him, he tried his hardest to make an escape, but Bobby was one step ahead of him. He swung the knife into the air and directed the target at the siren’s back, lodging his own venom into his system. It took a second before he fell to the ground, finally dead from its own karma that caught up to him. You tore your gaze away from the ceiling as you started to catch your breath, somehow you thought you’d be filled with relief at the outcome of this situation. But when you look straight forward at you, seeing the aftermath, Dean clutching his wounded shoulder and the axe lying at his feet, Sam leaning against the doorway after being drawn forward, both of them almost seemed in worse condition than you. You closed your eyes and filled your lungs with air, trying your hardest to forget what happened, and all those words buzzing around in your mind.

\+ + +

Everyone has those thoughts, the ones that were fueled by the anger boiling inside your chest when you’re arguing with someone, spitting out words you don’t really mean. You would say anything to make yourself come across as the winner here, but deep in the back of your mind, when you’re reduced to fighting off tears and biting your tongue to keep yourself from saying that. The thoughts your little voices created out of pure hatred from the moment–it’s about how much you hate them, how terrible of a person they were. It would be the type of things that would be the cherry on top to win the argument once and for all. But after the smoke cleared, when the words settled into your mind, nothing would be able to fully put the pieces back together. And the person would say, “Is that what you really think of me?” You kept wondering, the question repeating itself in your mind when you left the motel this afternoon. Still, you went on like everything was fine.

You were occupying a spot on the still warm hood of the Impala, your gaze following the outskirts of the the town you’d be leaving, soon after Bobby checked up on the three of you to make sure that everything was okay. You looked away from the bridge in the near distance after hearing the familiar rumble of the hunter’s car, signaling his arrival. Jumping down to the pavement, you gave him a smile when he joined all of you, coming with gifts when you noticed a few glasses bottles in his hand. You thanked him when you grabbed the cold beverage, your free hand reaching up to lightly scratch against the bandage on your neck when an awkward scratch tickled your skin. As you read the label, your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed the flavor wasn’t what you were expecting. You weren’t complaining for the free drink as you twisted off the top.

“Soda?”

“You kids are driving, ain’t ya?”

Dean fell silent as his attention dropped to the glass he was holding, shrugging his shoulders in agreement about being safe. All though the three of you wanted to do nothing but drink away the thoughts from this hunt, you settled for this, knowing it would be better to wait until you were safely settled before getting cozy with the liqueur bottle. Sam took a few sips of his drink before resting his drink in his grip, knowing he’d wanted to thank Bobby for stepping in when he did. Who knows what would have happened if he didn’t. “Thanks, Bobby.” Sam started off, your eyes trailed over to the young man when he tried continuing on. “You know, you  
you hadn’t shown up when you did  
”

“Done the same for me, more than once.” Bobby said, shrugging it off like it was nothing. Still, he decided to teach you three a lesson about trust, and doing more research about who called themselves the law. You put the bottle back to your lips to take another drink, suddenly feeling so stupid for not thinking about taking that precaution…but even you fell for the trap, letting yourself trust him. “Of course, you could have picked up a phone. Only took one call to figure out that agent Nick Monroe wasn’t real.” Sam looked away from the man as he clenched his jaw, you sat there with a hardening expression as Dean nursed his drink, keeping his own thoughts personal. Bobby couldn’t help himself but ask, “You kids gonna be okay?”

The question snapped you back into reality, making you shift your gaze into a neutral expression, your lips stretching into a smile when you processed what was going on. The brothers mumbled that they would be fine. You nodded your head, giving the man another smile that felt believable to you. “Mhmm. We’ll be okay.” It might have been a lie, or it could be the truth.

Bobby decided that it was a good enough of an answer for now. He knew it wouldn’t be good to searching for answers when the wounds were still fresh. Digging for the truth would only lead to guilt that nobody needed to feel right now. The man gave you all a nod of the head, knowing he’d a long drive back himself back home. You gave him a smile and mumbled a goodbye. It always was good to see him, even though most of time you’d met were because of hunts going wrong or disaster that never seemed to stop. But that was the lifestyle. Bobby headed over to his car, but as he took one more glance at the three of you, he stopped to give you and the brothers some peace of mind. “You know, those sirens are nasty things. That it got to you  
that’s no reason to feel bad.”

The man was trying to be helpful, but, sometimes, a piece of advice of saying that nothing was your fault would take away the pain in an instant. You kept your emotions hidden away in another smile and a wave goodbye, giving him some peace of mind as he piled into his car, before driving away, back home where he’d belonged. Until you called him up for whatever disaster that was thrown your way next. You took another sip of your drink as he disappeared into the distance, taking a left to the highway before vanishing from your sight completely, leaving the three of you to sit in silence for a few seconds at a time. Your eyes wandered the scenery once again, taking in everything about the buildings and the body of water surrounding it, all the townspeople thinking those four men were just crazy  
murdering their wives in cold blood. They’d never know what caused them to snap, and that’s how it should be. Sometimes knowing the truth is worse than living in the blissful ignorance. 

“You gonna say goodbye to Cara?” Dean’s question broke your attention away from your thoughts, making your eyes drift upwards to the man you were standing next to. Sam, who was standing to your right, shook his head to answer, saying something about not being interested. You and his older brother seemed taken back by the man’s response. “Really? Why not?”

Sam looked down at the pavement for a moment, kicking a small pebble with his foot. “What’s the point?” He asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, look at you. Love ‘em and leave ‘em.” You commented, a smirk spreading across your lips to help lighten the mood from Sam’s honest answer. You silently wondered if his decision to cut ties with the woman was because of his brother’s remarks on the slim picking he’d chosen over the years. You lightly elbowed him in the side when you caught sight of his expression. “I think you’re taking a little too much after Dean.”

You brought at least a fraction of a smile across Sam’s lips, knowing it didn’t help the emotions that were battling inside his mind. He shifted around in his spot, knowing there was something he had to say to the both of you before the thoughts got the best of him. “Guys, look, you know I didn’t mean the things I said back there, right?” Sam asked, you drew your gaze upwards to the tallest man from what he was finally bringing to light. “That was just the siren’s spell talking?”

“Of course. Dean said, nodding his head. “Me too.”

“Okay. So,” Sam glanced down at you, wanting clarification from the person he’d been lured into hurting the most. You could see in his eyes that he wanted to know that things between the both of you were going to be okay. “So we’re good, Y/N?”

You paused for a moment, recollecting on the memory of him saying how much he’d rather see you dead over his brother. How much he’d be willing to do anything just to see the light in your eyes go out. You remembered the tall man, the gentle giant you’d made fun of for being too empathic, would never in his right mind try to hurt you or Dean. He’d do anything to make sure the both of you were okay. So, you gave him the answer he’d been dying to hear. “Yeah, Sasquatch.” You said, giving him a warm smile of reassurance. Sam seemed to have let out a breath of relief from your answer. “We’re good.”

The three of you were back to normal, for now, at least. You took another sip of your drink, overlooking the town once more before you were following behind the brothers, loading yourself back into the Impala where another hunt would be waiting for you. Through the several years of hunting with the boys, you’d done things that most hunters wouldn’t even think about during their darkest points of their life. You’d been inside Dean’s subconscious, died too many times to count, dealt with monsters that most people associated with as fictional. You loved everything about this lifestyle, saving people and hunting monsters that deserved their bloody end. But it was the unknown that was getting you worried. You let out the quiet sigh you could muster and leaned back in your seat, you closed your eyes for a moment of silence away from everything.

\+ + +

Having the empty road at your fingertips was a blessing at times, but also, a curse. You and the brothers traveled to another state after spending the rest of the day stuck in the Impala, trying to decide what the next move would be. You’d offered to pay for a motel room for a few days, knowing all of you deserved a break after a stressful hunt like that one. The first one you picked out was a decent looking one, it’d do for how many nights the three of you decided to stay. You grabbed two motel keys for the rooms you’d booked and headed over to the boys. Any other time you’d be overjoyed at having a few days off from hunting to unwind, knowing this was the precious moments that you could share with Dean, but for some reason, you just wanted to be by yourself.

It was around ten at night when you settled into bed, you and the brothers gotten dinner earlier at some restaurant, kicked back your feet and enjoyed a few beers for a job well done. You retired to your own room after shooting down the chance to go back to their motel and watch some TV. Instead you sank into the mattress and put your attention to a book you’d found buried deep in your bag, deciding to read it again. There was nothing on TV that seemed satisfying and reading always helped put you in another world that than the one you were living in. You were about fifteen pages into the novel when you heard a faint knock on your door, dragging you away from the second chapter you were progressed in. You called out for whoever it was to come in, too tired to care about being on edge for a possible threat looming out in the darkness. When the door opened, your eyes trailed up to see Dean looming, one foot in the room with the other still in the hall. He asked if he could come in, you answered him with a nod.

You put your attention back to the last few pages of the chapter as Dean quietly closed the door behind him. He silently watched as you fixated on the paperback in your hands, the cover worn out from too many times from being read and bent for better use. As you flipped to the last page of the chapter, you continued on reading the few remaining sentences, you moved around in your spot on the bed, finding another twitch come from moving too fast. You winced slightly as you reached up to rub the aching muscle, for the most part it did the trick, but you looked up when you heard Dean ask if you were all right.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You mumbled to him, nodding your head so he wouldn’t worry. You grabbed the bookmark that was lying next to your leg and parted it between the pages, you closed your book and placed it on the nightstand for safekeeping tonight. “It’s just that my neck and back are killing me. I guess that’s what happens when a guy twice my size pushes me through a door.” You thought a small joke between the both of you would have helped ease the tension between the both of you since Dean had been walking on eggshells around you with guilt. But you could see his expression drop as he remembered what he’d done. "What are you doing here? Nothing good on TV, or something?”

“Nah.” Dean said. He reached up to scratch his ear, his other hand reached up to settle in his pocket. You could see that the man was observing the room, acting like he wanted to say something, but too shy to bring up what he wanted. You looked at him for a second before you were slowly nodding your head as you rolled your shoulders, trying your hardest to work through this cramping that was getting worse. “You...You need help with that?”

You looked over at the man, your brow furrowing from his question. “You’re offering to give me a massage?” You asked him for clarification, Dean shrugged as he nodded a yes. You weren’t going to protest the offer, so you moved down so he could have some room. A moment later you felt a dip in the bed and familiar hands wrapping around your shoulders. It took a few times for you to get used to the feeling of someone digging their fingers into your flesh. But when Dean got it right, you closed your eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation. “Damn, you got good fingers.”

Dean couldn’t help himself but chuckle at your remark, he continued on loosening up your muscles, his touch tracing upwards to your upper back, making sure to avoid places that were still freshly bruised from the accident. “That wouldn’t be the first time a girl said that.” He couldn’t help himself but remark, you giggled as he smirked, happy to hear you settling into a better mood. You always said that you hated his crude sense of humor, but secretly you enjoyed it, the remarks always put a smile on your face. As Dean continued on giving you the best massage of your life, he sweetened the deal by leaning forward, peppering the crook of your neck with soft kisses. You let out a sigh of content, closing your eyes to enjoy the small blissful moment. Dean moved forward, his lips moving across the spot that he’d been wanting to get near, the upper part of your neck where laid the opened wound. Ever so softly, he tenderly placed a kiss on the cut he’d made on your skin, making your eyelids flutter open from what he said afterward. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You sat there in a moment of silence, hearing your own breathing as you felt the slight tickle of his warm breaths cascading down your neck from him leaning forward. You turned your head to see that Dean was here, not because he was bored, but for the guilt that he carried around since the other day. You shifted around in your spot on the bed until you were sitting right across from him, barely giving either one of you much room. it wasn’t hard to see that what’s he done, bringing you back to the horrible memories of Hell, to the times when he’d admitted all those things. As much as you said the both of you were completely over what happened, you weren’t. You reached out and grabbed his hands to entwine his fingers with yours, suddenly wanting to feel his touch against yours. What you felt was rough and calloused skin from years of hunting and working on learning how to perfectly tune Baby, the hands that you used to hold when you were small kids when walking down the street. He always made sure you were safe.

In hall honesty, you could say that you weren’t over what Dean did to you, even what he said to you made you feel a twitch of pain. It was so hard to get rid of the feelings of resentment. But you weren’t going to give up so easily. You weren’t going to succumb to the normality of hunters not having someone to fall back on, a weak spot you weren’t afraid to admit of having. You and Dean had been through so much together. You weren’t going to let the circumstances change that for you. If there was anything that you learned from hunting together over these past few years, it was that you shouldn’t stop, no matter how hard things get. You leaned forward in your seat, eyes trailing upwards to catch sight of his green ones that always made you memorized, knowing they’d always told a different story when you looked into them. Tonight you could see vulnerableness, a sense of worry. You eased his mind by pressing your lips against his, silently wanting to show him how you really felt.


	15. Death Takes a Holiday.

They say miracles happen everyday to people, you just need to pay close enough attention to find them. Sometimes you read about them in the newspaper, that small article about someone getting a kidney with days left to live or perhaps there’s a lucky fellow who spent a single dollar, only to scratch off millions of dollars. The stories are crammed between the front page headline of the ongoing crises around the world and a grisly homicide deemed worthy enough to catch reader’s attention to find out what it’s all about. What miracle you’d enjoy was a moment where you could have a decent conversation with Bobby Singer, the hunter who’d called up to see how things were between you and the brothers since wrapping up the siren case a week back. You leaned in your seat and scratched the side of your mouth, your eyes trailed upwards from Sam, who was sitting across from you silently reading the newspaper article Bobby had brought to your attention, then over to Dean. You furrowed your brow when you watched him stand with his back to you, playing some cheap pinball game that seemed like a gimmicky way to eat the player’s change.

“No, no, no, you’re right, it’s definitely weird.” You agreed with the hunter you were still speaking to. You watched as Dean lightly hit on top of the machine to see if he could get it working once more. But all it ended was him heading back to the table the three of you were occupying for lunch. You snuck a hand over to Dean’s plate to grab a fry and popping it into your mouth, yet ignoring his annoyed glare when he caught you red handed. “Okay, we’ll get on it. Thanks, Bobby.”

“What’s up?” Dean asked you, dropping down in his seat that was next to yours.

“Oh.” You sighed from the new case that you and Bobby were speaking about. Strange things never stopped for you to have a break, but you presumed it was better than sitting around waiting for more of this apocolypse business from growing worse. You shut your phone and put it back into your pocket for safekeeping, you answered the man’s question in the process. “Bobby found something in Wyoming.”

“A job?” Dean presumed as he grabbed his hamburger, reaching it to his mouth to take a large bite of it. You subconsciously placed a hand on your stomach at the remaining food still left on the table. You were overstuffed from the lunch you’d had since you’d skipped breakfast this morning.

“Maybe. Small town, no one’s died in the past week and a half.” You explained to him. Dean seemed full of questions today, asking what was so unusual about that. Sometimes death has a right to take a break from reaping souls. As you looked over at him when he started speaking, your nose slightly wrinkled when you caught sight of him speaking with mouth full of chewed up food, he swallowed when he caught sight your expression. “Well, it’s how they’re not dying. One guy with terminal cancer strolled right out of hospice, another guy gets capped by a mugger and walks away without a scratch.”

Dean raised a brow, “Capped in the ass?”

“Get this,” Sam pointed a finger at the laptop screen when he spotted something in the article that he’d thought was rather interesting to lead all of you into checking out this possible hunt. “‘Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point blank range by a 9mm.’”

Dean listened for a moment, pinching a handful of fries from his plate and put them up to his mouth to consume. But when he heard the information, he’d stopped in his actions, looking up at his brother with surprise. “And he’s not a doughnut?”

“Locals are saying it’s a miracle.” Sam said, skimming the article once more. You wondered if that part could have been partly true, Dean shrugged his shoulders as he mumbled an okay, seeming to take it for what it was. Sam didn’t seem convinced. He closed the laptop and observed the quiet diner to see the few people that were in here were either silently working or enjoying their meal. He pushed the computer back to you and leaned forward, he dropped his voice into a quieter tone from what he brought up next so he wouldn’t catch any wandering attention. “It’s gotta be something nasty, right? I mean, people making deals or something.”

You couldn’t help but think the presumption was a bit far off. Maybe you could believe the man dying selling his soul for health, but the victim of the mugging seemed to have told a different story for you. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms over your chest, giving the younger Winchester a curious look. “You think?” You asked him, wondering if demons were messing with people for some cheap ways of gaining more souls.

“What else would it be?” Sam questioned you back, fishing for another answer. You narrowed your eyes on him slightly, Dean answered the man with a muffled few words about not knowing. Sam reached over to grab your laptop and shoved it back into the leather messenger bag he never seemed to leave anywhere without. He got up from his seat, the metal legs of the chair he’d been sitting in scraped loudly against the tiled floor. “All right, get that to go.”

You reached out a hand to take the last few remaining sips of your drink and followed behind Sam, who was eagerly anticipating the both of you to follow in his lead. Dean, on the other hand, quietly continued on chewing on the burger he’d took a bite of, not seeming to be in a rush at all. Sam stopped in his tracks when he realized his brother was still sitting there. “Sure you want me and Y/N going with you?” Dean casually asked. He put the burger upwards to his mouth to take another bite of his food.

Sam gave his brother a confused look from what he said, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t want to hold you back or anything.”

The younger Winchester couldn’t help himself but roll his eyes from the petty argument his brother was still bringing up, still a week later after the events took place. “Dude, I told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me.” He said, trying to apologize to the man for the last time. “Can we get past this?”

Dean sniffed a few times, quietly thinking to himself for a few moments before he dropped his half eaten burger to the plate. He dusted off his hands, letting the crumbs fall to the floor for the waiter to clean up. You placed your hands on your hips, happy to hear the words that would hopefully draw this brother argument to a close once and for all. “Yeah, we’re past it.”

\+ + + 

It took a few days of travel to arrive in Greybull, Wyoming where you met the famous Jim Jenkins, the man who’d survived a date with death. You and the brothers were greeted by the man after knocking on his front door, introducing yourself as a couple of bloggers, wanting a personal interview from the miracle that happened right in this small town. He’d seemed more than happy, leading the three of you inside through his home until you were sitting at the small kitchen table. You crossed your ankles over the other, watching as the man peeked inside the living room for a moment before turning his head to look at all of you. He pulled out a seat right across from the doorway before sitting down to get this conversation formally started.

“Now, you three said you were bloggers?” He asked, your lips stretched into a smile.

“Yes, sir.” You answered with a nod and smile from the cheesy name you made up to make this seem more believable. “Flooredbythelord.com.”

“All of God’s glory fit to blog.” Dean added with a grin, lightly knocking his fist on the table.

Sam cleared his throat as he turned his head, he couldn’t help himself but give his brother a look for the obscene comment before directing his attention to Jim, eager to get this conversation started and see what this situation was all about. “Some of the people around town are saying what happened to you was a miracle.”

“It was.” Jim said without a drop of hesitance in his voice. “Plain as day.”

“How can you be so sure?” You asked him, curious to hear his answer.

“How else do you explain it? The doctors can’t. There’s a bullet in my heart, and it’s pumping like a piston.” Jim tried to answer the best he could, shrugging his shoulders. Obviously he was having questions himself about what happened to him. You decided to ask him how he could explain the matter, wanting to hear the man’s theory in his own words. Jim fell silent for a few moments, his eyes wandered around at the three of you, all before his gaze went lingering to the doorway, where he spotted his wife and daughter in the next room where she was eagerly drawing a picture for him. Jim let out a faint sigh, he looked back over at the three of you. “Look, honestly, I was nobody’s saint—not exactly father of the year, either. But when that guy shot me and I didn’t bleed a drop? I just knew the Lord was giving me a second chance.”

“Is that so?” You asked him, raising a brow.

“I had his feeling—like angels were watching over me.” Jim admitted. Your eyes jumped over to Dean at the word of a creature you’d haven’t come across in a few months. Whenever your feathered friends were around, trouble seemed to have been brewing about, pulling you back into the apocalypse and never-ending game of stopping seals before they could be broken. But if this was a possible seal, which you doubted, it meant Lilith was quietly stalking about, causing her mischief. It seemed your silence from being drawn into your own thoughts translated into disbelief. Jim leaned back in his seat, speaking up once more. “I wouldn’t expect you guys to understand.”

“Well,” Dean cracked a small smile at the man, only if he really knew. “We’ll just have to try.”

“You wouldn’t have happened to have swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?” Sam asked a question. You and Dean looked over at him, your eyes widening just a fraction from how bold he was being, dragging the conversation into a route that wasn’t exactly subtle. It seemed you weren’t the only one thinking demons could have been at fault, Sam just just making it part of the conversation, like he was asking about the weather. Jim looked at the young man a bit funny, he answered no. “Maybe you met someone…with black eyes? Or red?”

Jim fell silent for a few seconds, the mood in the room turning downwards as he started looking at the three of you with suspicion. He leaned in his seat and looked over at Sam, his eyes narrowing on the man for a few seconds. “Who’d you guys say you were again?”

“Nevermind.” You answered for him with a bright smile, distracting him from asking anymore possible questions. “Thank you for your time.”

You couldn’t help but feel angered at the downward in conversation Sam decided to do. You didn’t let it show as you showed yourselves out, letting him attend himself back to his wife and daughter. Part of you understood that Sam was jumping on every chance of tracking down Lilith, using whatever demon he could get his hands on. She was the one he held a grudge for after allowing you and his brother to get murdered before being dragged to Hell, not to mention, being the one to blame for the breaking of the seals. But there was mixing personal feelings while working a case, and he needed to understand again where not to cross the line.

\+ + +

You weren’t a stranger to death. Having a few brushes with it a few times through the years, you always managed to jump back from it. Whether it was some strange phenomenon that brought you back into full health after the accident, that faith healer who switched your density with another—or being brought back from Hell thanks to a familiar stranger, you couldn’t help but feel these people weren’t dodging death for the same particular reasons. You leaned your elbow against the table you were currently occupying, resting your head against your palm, you scrolled through the local obituaries that hadn’t been updated in the past two weeks. One in particular caught your attention of a twelve year old boy, you scrolled your finger over the mousepad until the cursor lingered over the picture, with a double click, you enlarged the photo his smiling face and observed the photograph for a moment. When you heard the motel door open, your eyes lingered upward to see the brothers arrived back from their own investigation at the hospice center.

“Hey.” You greeted them, you clicked on the mousepad to bring the window back to the obituaries that you were previously reading. You dropped your arm to the table and looked away from the computer screen, giving the brothers your full attention. “Get anything decent?”

“That cancer survivor?” Sam asked you, wondering if you’d remembered. You nodded your head, listening to the door close as Dean headed over to the counter where he saw you had made a fresh pot of coffee just a few minutes ago. “He was clinically dead, his wife pulled the plug, and now he’s taking her out for their twentieth anniversary.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at what you heard, “Any sign of a deal?”

“No.” Sam admitted, coming up clean for whatever reason that might explain what was going on here. You let out a quiet sigh and directed your attention back to your laptop for a moment. “What about you? Found anyone dying around here?”

“Not since Cole Griffith. That was ten days ago.” You answered. You scrolled through the screen, pulling up the photograph of the boy to show the brothers. “It was the last death that I could find.”

“So,” Sam decided to ask the important question. “What are we thinking?”

“Eh,” You shrugged your shoulders, seeming to believe what you were reading about. You got up from your seat and headed for the counter that Dean was leaning against, grabbing a clean up to pour yourself another round of coffee. “Maybe it is what people say it is.”

Sam scoffed at your response, he walked away from the doorway he was occupying to take a look for himself at the obituaries. “Miracles?” He asked with a rather annoyed tone from the word he was constantly hearing being thrown around. You rolled your eyes at his attitude. For someone who once believed in a higher power, he sure wasn’t positive on the idea a few of your least favorite friends might be doing some good for once in their time of being on Earth. “Y/N, our experience, when do miracles just happen?”

“Well, there’s no deals. There’s no skeevy faith healers.” Dean said, seeming to agree that there was something different going on here. “I mean, these souls just ain’t getting dragged into the light.”

The younger Winchester thought to himself for a few moments, his gaze was focused on the table. You took a sip of your coffee, watching as his expressions changed, like he’d had a moment of eureka to explain what was going on around here. “Maybe ‘cause there’s no one around to carry them.” Sam suggested. You looked at him a bit funny, Dean asked what he meant by that. “Well, grim reapers–that’s what they do, right? Schlepp souls? So, if death ain’t in town—”

"Then nobody’s dying.” You finished for him. You were a bit hesitant to believe that death would take a vacation to give people in this small little town. In your own personal experience, reapers were persistent bastards. They got what they wanted, no matter who paid the price. “So what? The local reaper’s on strike? Playing back the nine? I don’t know, Sammy.”

“Well, then,” Sam suggested an idea as his eyes lingered over to the laptop screen. “Let’s talk to somebody who might.”

“Last I checked, Huggy Bear ain’t available.” Dean said, breaking the news of your least favorite angel, Castiel, wasn’t on speed dial to lend a helping hand.

“No, dude,” Sam corrected his brother. “the kid.”

Dean reminded the younger man with a nod of the head to the computer screen of the flaw in his plan, as if he didn’t notice the window was still parked on the obituary. “The kid’s a doornail.”

“Exactly.” Sam said with a growing smile from the suggestion he was about to make. You had to admit, the idea wasn’t half bad into figuring out what the hell was going on here. “Look, if he was the last person to die around here, then maybe he’s seen something. We should talk to him.”

Dean couldn’t help himself but let out a chuckle, “I love how matter-of-fact you are about that.” He mumbled, bringing the ceramic cup to his lips to take another drink. You looked over at him as your hands wrapped around your own cup, enjoying the warmth that heated up your hands that battled the freezing weather outside. “Strange lives.”

\+ + +

At the strike of midnight you and the brothers were occupying the cemetery, abandoned by any grieving souls, leaving you the decomposing bodies that laid underneath the frozen ground. Sam was crouched on the snow covered grass, making the final details to the scene after lighting the candles and making the correct symbols for this to work after Dean instructed him. His brother was leaning against the tombstone of someone who’d passed a few decades ago, he kept his attention lingering on their father’s journal, skimming through the information once more. You couldn’t help yourself but wrap the jacket tighter around your body, pressing your scarf around closer to your cheeks, making you feel the slightest bit warmer from the weather. You took a step forward to the boys, your shoes sinking into the light dusting of frozen snow, wondering how the process was coming along.

Dean overlooked the information one more time, his brow furrowing from what he was reading. Neither one of you normally contacted the dead, it was all about banishing their existence from Earth. You and Sam did a seance a few years back, when a spirit of a priest presumed he was reincarnated into an angel, but you’d put that man to rest. Still, Dean was hesitant to see if a twelve year old was going to be just as cooperative. “You sure this is gonna work?”

“No. But if his spirit’s around this should smoke him out.” Sam admitted, not giving you much confidence about this situation. You crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head to the side, slightly annoyed, wondering if you standing out here in the freezing weather was going to be all worth it. You kept your opinions to yourself, directing your attention to Sam, who busied himself working for a minute, gathering the rest of the supplies. When he glanced up for a moment, his attention lingered up to his brother, who had the same hesitant look on his face for the past five minutes. “What?”

“This job is jacked, that’s what.” Dean said, confessing what had been bothering him. You looked over at him, wondering what he meant by that. “You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let’s light it up, right? But this? If we fix whatever this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people.”

“Look, I don’t want them to die, either, Dean,” You said, agreeing with how bitter this hunt was going to end. Sam pushed himself up to his feet, listening to what you had to say. “But there’s a natural order.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Dean asked you, prompting you to look at him a bit funny. “You don’t see the irony in that, Y/N? I mean, all of us, we’re like the poster children of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death.”

“Yeah,” Sam momentarily agreed with his brother on that point, only to bring this conversation back around to defending your argument. “But the normal rules don’t really apply to us, do they?”

Dean couldn’t help himself when he let out a throaty chuckle, honestly thinking you and Sam were joking about this. But when he noticed you and his brother were standing there, with stone cold seriousness, his chuckles disappeared into a moment of silence. “We’re no different than anybody else.” Dean argued, now it was your turn to let out a small laugh from the small shrivel of normalcy he was holding on to.

“Sam’s infected with demon blood. You’ve been to Hell. And I’m all of the above—with the added kicker that I was made out of a deal gone bad.” You said, giving him the honest truth that he didn’t really want to hear from his gaze that dropped to the ground for a second. “Look, I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the Plumber, Dean, but you’re not. Neither is Sam. We’re not normal. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’re gonna be.”

“Ah,” Dean sighed, now facing the nighttime sky, his exhaled breaths turned into a foggy cloud as he spotted the moon from above the naked tree branches. “Joe the Plumber was a douche.”

“And you so are you sometimes.” You remarked, making his head snap forward at you from the unexpected comment. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, your quiet laughter echoing through the wooded area. Shoving your hands inside your pocket, you nodded your head at the work that still was ahead. “You gonna help me and Sam finish this?”

Dean nodded his head, sniffing before pushing himself to his feet, as you started for the sentence, an approaching voice in the near distance caught you off guard. “Hey!” You quickly turned on your heels from the jump scare, you almost slipped on the snow, but somehow you’d manage to catch yourself as you struggled to quickly shield your eyes from the blinding light. You blinked when the flashlight was taken off you, now going for the strange setup you’d gotten going on. A man, you presumed was a groundskeeper, was doing is rounds, and stumbled upon a sight that wasn’t going to be so easy to explain. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, just…” Sam was the first one to speak up, he hesitated to find the right response. You shrugged your shoulders when he glanced over at you and his brother. He threw his attention back over at the man, only to take notice of the almost natural aggressive expression that was starting to grow worse from the far innocent sight he wouldn’t take his eyes off of. “Take it easy.”

“What the hell is this?” The man questioned you three, cautiously taking a step forward.

“Okay, this—this,” Dean struggled to get the words out when he glanced down at the scenery. His gloved hand waved over the candles and sketchy looking cloth mat with sage lying in the middle, to someone with the untrained eye, it seemed rather ominous. “This is not what it looks like.”

“Really?” The man asked, he raised a brow at the oldest Winchester. From the look on his face, you knew the man wasn’t believing a single word spoken. “'Cause it looks like devil worship.”

“What? No! No, this is not devil worship. This—This—This, this is, uh…” Dean nervously chuckled, trying his hardest to snap out an excuse. Unfortunately all the stuttering and laughter wasn’t going to save you and the boys, so, Dean admitted some truth in defeat. “I don’t have a good answer.”

You couldn’t help yourself but close your eyes for a brief moment, allowing yourself to roll your eyes before trying to at least get out of here before being hauled out of town for good before this hunt was done. “Look,” You breathed out a sigh and looked over at the man. “We’re leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere…ever again,” The man shook his head, his subtle threat caught you off guard. You narrowed your eyes on him, wondering for a moment about what was going on. You watched as he took small, almost precise steps forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “Y/N.”

Your fists clenched when you heard your name being spoken from the stranger, knowing that was never a good sign. For a brief moment you waited for the man’s eyes to turn pitch black, yet when you saw them roll upwards, to only show the whites of his eyes, you could feel all the color drain from your face when you realized who was standing in front of you. “Alastair.“ Dean spoke the unwanted demon’s name, venom dripping from his tone at the sight of someone neither one of you expected to see so soon. There went the comforting thought of the demon burning where he belonged. “I thought you got deep fried, extra-crispy.”

“Nah. Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife’s still looking for him. It’s hilarious.” Alastair said, a smirk of amusement spreading across his lips at the poor soul he’d laid to waste for his own sloppy behavior. To the demon, there was always another body to ride, another job to do here for his boss, Lilith. “Anyway…no time to chat. Got a hot date with death.”

Alastair lifted up a hand, and with just a flick of the wrist, Dean went flying high into the air and falling on top of a concrete tombstone that rendered him unconscious after falling to the ground. You winced at the rough landing the poor man had gotten himself into. But it seemed you weren’t going to be spared, Alastair always liked to have a bit of fun. You could feel yourself being thrown back, your backside being pinned against a tree, rendering your eyesight blurry for a moment after the back of your head bashed itself against the bark. You caught your breath, trying your hardest to somehow get back to your feet, knowing he couldn’t hold you down for long, but it seemed Sam wasn’t all that defenseless. Alastair tried to move the young man around like a rag doll, but every time he tried, Sam just stood there, a smirk spreading across his lips. You pushed yourself to your feet and leaned against the tree, wondering what was causing him to be anchored to the ground.

“You’re stronger, Sam.” Alastair commented, taking notice of the difference from the last time he saw him. “You’ve been soloflexing with your little slut?”

“You have no idea.” The younger man hissed.

Sam decided to show off his new abilities, you watched as he waved his arm, easily making the demon get a taste of his own medicine. Alastair went through the air, nearly falling halfway across the cemetery, before he was pinned against a tree himself. You took your gaze away from the demon when you put your attention to Sam, who was getting ready to pull out the demon once and for all, but before he could, Alastair left town before he could go back home. Your head shot up to the night sky when the moon became clouded with the thick cloud of demon smoke went soaring through the air, disappearing to another victim as his way of licking his wounded ego. You weren’t sure if you were disappointed at the fact Alastair was back off again, waiting to plan another attack, or if it was because Sam was getting progressively deeper in his abilities. And he didn’t even bothering sharing how he was getting more and more powerful.

\+ + +

Dean was still sulking the next morning when you arrived to check on the boys. You found him lying on the motel bed after you knocked a few times, and after getting a lack of response, you barged in to see his current predicament. He whined about how his head hurt, even with the towel that he’d wrapped up with ice, nothing was helping. You admitted he hit his head pretty hard, but when you tried offering to drive him to the hospital, he shot the idea down. You threw your hands up in defeat, deciding to let him sit there and complain more about the pain he was in. As you walked over to the other side of the room where you were about to take a seat on Sam’s bed, the motel door swung right open, revealing the man himself.

“How you doing?” Sam asked, you scoffed at the question.

“I’m in pain, that’s how I’m doing.” Dean complained. “I think I have a concussion.”

“Do you at least want some aspirin?” You asked, trying to be helpful.

“No thanks, House.” Dean said, shooting down yet another friendly offer that would take some the pain away. He pushed himself to a sitting position, dropping his leg to the ground after he was leaning it against the backboard of the bed. “So, demons, huh?”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed. “So much for miracles.”

“And what the hell happened with Alastair again?” Dean asked the both of you, the memories from last night were still blurry, and he’d been curious to find out what happened after he blacked out.

“I told you, he tried to fling me or whatever, and it didn’t work,” Sam explained to his brother. You knew it was the truth, but you couldn’t help yourself but stare at him a bit differently, almost with extra caution, as he made his way across the room and headed over to the dresser that was right behind from where you were sitting. “So he bailed.”

“Well, how come he couldn’t fling you?” You asked the younger man. You twisted around on the spot from the bed, so you were now looking over at the man, but thanks to his height, you had to crank your neck upwards to make eye contact with him. “He chuckled you pretty good last time.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Got no idea.”

You dropped back into your seat, his answer should have satisfied you to keep from asking anymore questions, and even though you did, you still felt like he wasn’t telling you something. Dean’s eyes lingered over to you, just the look on your face was clear enough his little brother was keeping something from you. “Sam, do us a favor. If you’re gonna keep your little secrets, I can’t really can’t stop you,” Dean said, knowing it was inevitable. “But just don’t treat me and Y/N like an idiot, okay?”

“What?” Sam was thrown off from the accusation. “Dean, I’m not keeping secrets.”

“Whatever.” You couldn’t help yourself but say, throwing your hands up to change this subject before this could get thrown into another argument between brothers. “So, did you go back to q-and-a the dead kid?”

“Didn’t have to. Bobby called me. He did some digging.” Sam said. He walked around the bed and took a seat right next to you. “He thinks I’m right. Local reaper’s gone. Not just gone—kidnapped.”

“By demons?” You asked with suspicion. “Why?”

“Listen to this.” Sam opened up the small booklet he was carrying around, he turned a few pages before finding the passage he’d written down. None, in which, made any sense to you. “'And he bloodied death under the newborn sky—sweet to taste, but bitter when once devoured.'”

"Swanky.” Dean mumbled. “What the hell’s that mean?”

“Well, it’s from a very obscure, very arcane version of revelations.” Sam answered. You rolled your head to the side, dreading to think this meant what it really was. “Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon—tomorrow night, by the way—you got yourself a broken seal.”

“How do you ice a reaper?” Dean asked, baffled at the concept. “You can’t kill death.”

“I don’t know. Maybe demons can.” You gave your best explanation to a phenomenon that didn’t even seem really possible. “Where the hell are these so called angels is what I want to know. It pains me to say that we could use their help for once.”

“It looks like we’re gonna have to take care of this ourselves.” Dean said. You looked over at the man as Sam stopped raveling his book back up.

“What are we gonna do, just swing in and save the friendly neighborhood reaper?” Sam asked his brother with almost a comical tone, the ends of the man’s lips stretched into a smirk. Dean wasn’t a bit amused, remarking for a better plan from the both of you. “Reapers are invisible. The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying.”

“Well, if ghosts are the only ones that can see them…” Dean trailed off for a moment, making you and his brother wondering what plan that he could help. You knew he’d come up with a lot of stupid ideas, mostly because it was in his sarcastic nature, but this was the wrong time. “Then we become ghosts.”

"You do have a concussion.”

“Sounds crazy, I know.”

"It is crazy.” You said, letting out a sigh from the complicated p plan Dean was proposing. He brought the makeshift icepack to his head, the ends of his lips stretching into a crooked smile. You let out a sigh and looked over at Sam, both of you had a feeling the man was onto something good here. “How?”

\+ + +

If you and the brothers were going to go off to the other side, to become things that you hunted, it was going to take something less permanent to make this work. You searched for a few hours to see how you could make this work, and turns out, there was something that would allow you to pass through the veil and into the spirit world—no dying required. But it was harder than you thought. You needed some outside help, from a woman that didn’t sound too pleased to hear your voice when you called her. Pamela was the only psychic you knew who was powerful enough to conduct this spell, you’d known her since you and Dean were sprung free from Hell, and you’d hadn’t been the best company after Bobby introduced all of you. There was a situation that lead her eyes getting burned out of her skull after summoning Castiel, whom you thought at the time was a demon, but your mistake left her legally blind. She was kind enough to help after you told her about another woman named Anna, only when she found out who she really was, she’d backed out quick as possible. Somehow you’d convinced her to help, telling her that you owed her big time.

Dean left a few hours ago to pick up the woman, you weren’t envious for the man, knowing Pamela was probably ripping him a new one from the scheme she was pulled into, no charming or flirting from him would be good enough to sustain the blows. You laid out the candles from last night onto the table, knowing it would be needed from the instructions you read online. As you set down the box of matches, your head snapped upwards when you heard a faint knock on the door, Sam knew who it was. You watched as he toward the motel door and opened it up, revealing the woman you’d been waiting for. Pamela stood there with her signature style of a leather jacket and sunglasses, her arms were crossed over her chest as she shook her head in annoyance.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how crazy you three are.” Pamela greeted you and Sam with bitterness in her voice when she stepped inside the motel room, leaving Dean to stand in the hallway for just a moment. You couldn’t help yourself when you walked forward after seeing her try and guide herself around the room by waving around her hands in the air. You lightly grabbed her arm, guiding her to the desk where you thought she might prefer to sit for the meantime. “Y/N, sweetie, I’m fine. Been dealing perfectly fine without you help, thank you very much.”

“Well, Pamela,” Sam closed the motel door when his brother stepped inside, ignoring the man’s eye roll from the verbal torture he’d been put through. "Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Aw, that’s sweet grumpy. What do you say to deaf people?” Pamela chuckled out, all before her tone turned back to a harsh lash from the compliment that turned south. She reached up a hand to tilt down her glasses, showing off the plastic eyes that were just white irises. You gave Sam an annoyed glare, knowing the woman wasn’t exactly on your best side at the moment. She had yet to fully agree with going along with this plan. Without her, none of this would work. “Which one of you brainiacs came up with astral projection?”

Dean lifted up his hand to take the blame, “Yo.”

“Of course. Chachi. So, let’s be clear— you want to rip your souls out of your bodies and take a little stroll through the spirit world?” Pamela asked you all for clarification, as if you weren’t clear enough over the phone. You hummed your answer, nodding your head as your eyes flickered over to the boys. She made it sound so simple, but none of you knew the possible struggles ahead, and not just for for you. “Do you have any idea how heavy-duty insane that is?”

“Maybe,” You said, agreeing with her to a certain extent. There was lives that needed to be passed onto the other side. And there was just more than that at stake. Much as you didn’t want to become part of the next life to deal with a demon you’d despised with every fiber of your being, you knew it had to be done. All of you just had to do things you weren’t comfortable with. “But that’s where the reaper is, so…”

“So, it’s nuts.” She argued with you.

“Not if you know what you’re doing.” You said.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“No, but you do.”

“Yeah, I do. And guess what?” Pamela asked, wanting to see if any of you could sense what was burning back in her mind. She’d been quiet for long enough, being pawned off into dangerous schemes that almost gotten her killed. You let out a quiet sigh as you crossed your arms over your chest from her reasonable complaints, but it wasn’t the time for the woman to be backing out on something so dangerous lingering in the near distance. “I’m sick of being hauled back into your angel-demon, soc-greaser crap.”

“Look, I’d loved to be kicking back with a cold one, watching ‘Judge Judy,’ too.” Dean spoke up after spending the last few hours biting his tongue. Pamela caught his sense of humor and twisted it around to her advantage, remarking of another blind joke sent her way, the man rolled his eyes from the mistake. “You know what I mean. We’re talking about the end of the world here, okay? No more tasseled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs, no more nothing. We need your help.”

Pamela stayed silent for a few moments, contemplating if any of you were bluffing about this threat, but it seemed she reluctantly agreed to go along with this plan. One more time before she was officially done with this entire situation all together. You helped her to the chair after pulling it out for her, placing it between the beds as Sam busied with shutting the curtains and Dean lit a few candles to help the aura of the room. Things started coming together, in the next few minutes, you would be jumping into the other side. You grabbed a candle from the table to bring it over to the nightstand, making sure the flame wouldn’t go out. When you placed it down, you stood back up and looked over at Pamela, who had been staying quiet for the most part as she listened to the three of you work by your footsteps across the wooden floors. She leaned against the chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Tell me something, geniuses.” Pamela spoke up, you could tell from the tone of her voice she was curious to see how you would answer her question. “Even if you do break into the veil and you find the reaper, how you gonna save it?”

“With style and class.” Dean remarked, opening his arms out in front of the woman, like she could see what he was doing.

“You’re gonna be three walking pieces of fog who can’t touch or move anything.” Pamela said, giving you all a piece of information, suddenly changing your confidence about this plan all together. “You’ll be defenseless, hotshot.”

Sam turned away from the window after shutting the curtains to somewhat block out the afternoon sunshine, you and his brother shared similar looks at the news, he walked forward to Dean. “I seem to recall a bunch of ghosts beating the crap out of us.” He declared, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“Yeah,” Pamela agreed with the man for a moment before correcting him. “But they had plenty of time to practice, Grumpy.”

“Well, then, I guess we got to start cramming.” Dean said, seeming up for the challenge.

“Wow, couple of heros.” Pamela muttered underneath her breath, you could hear her tone was thick with sarcasm. She leaned forward in the seat she’d been occupying, her palms lightly tapped the ends of the beds. “All right. Lie down. Close your eyes.”

You inhaled a quietly deep breath before you were following behind the brothers, getting yourselves comfortable as possible, still not sure if this was going to work. Or if it did, how painful it was going to be. You buried your conscious thoughts into the back of your mind and laid down on the bed Dean was occupying. You adjusted yourself best as you could, both of you now lying on your backside and eyes staring wide at the ceiling for a moment. You looked over at Dean, the two of you made eye contact for a moment, he gave you a flash of a tiny smile before Pamela was instructing, yet again, to close your eyes. You did as you were told, letting the darkness engulf your vision, Pamela leaned back in the seat and started the first part of the ritual.

“Anium vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis, vis.” Pamela spoke out the chant, listening to hear the rusty bed frame squeak to see if there was any movement from you three. She scratched the back of her head when she heard your breathing stop, knowing this had worked. “Okay, guys. That’s it. Showtime.”

You propped open an eye and cautiously looked around the room, not sure what you should be feeling right now. When you noticed that almost everything was the exact same before this situation started, you let out a frustrated grumble underneath your breath and pushed yourself to a sitting position, letting your legs kick off the bed as you sat on the edge. Dean followed in your actions, seeming to come up with the same results as you did. “Well, nothing like shooting blanks. What’s 'Plan B’?” The man asked. You looked over your shoulder when Pamela didn’t respond, with a sarcastic remark like you presumed, instead of saying anything, she just sat there in silence, mindlessly scratching her neck.

You furrowed your brow in bewilderment as you pushed yourself to your feet, your eyes wandered over to the other side of the room to see that Sam was lying on the bed next to yours, almost making it look like he was peacefully sleeping. You looked over at the bed you were standing next to, your attention catching sight of Dean sitting with his back to you, but his own body was still lying on the bed, like there was two of them. You couldn’t help yourself but take a step forward when you saw a body right next to his, knowing there was never going to be a chance again to see yourself like another person. Dead and in the flesh, you laid there with your eyes closed. You could feel a small smile tugging at the ends of your lips from how strange this was, allowing yourself to examine your own face like a stranger would. 

“Well,” You whispered like someone could hear you. Your eyes flickered over to the boys, Dean was staring at his own body was that was inches from his own, Sam shrugged his shoulders, both of them seeming a little bit freaked out from what was happening. “Talk about having an outer body experience, eh?”

“Oh, I’m so feeling up Demi Moore.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You battled that idea with a look as you raised a brow in suspicion. 

“Alright, so, I’m assuming you’re somewhere over the rainbow. Remember, I have to bring you back. I’ll whisper the inclination in your ear.” Pamela explained. You watched as she pushed herself up to her feet, walking over to the bed where Sam was occupying, and without a single clue of what she said, she hovered over his ear and whispered a secret message the younger man could only hear. “You’ve got a great ass.”

“What’d she,” Dean twisted around in his seat on the bed, he looked over at his little brother to see that the man was chuckling to himself. You gave him a small smile from how Dean tried his hardest to figure out what was going on. “What’d she say?”

You rolled your eyes and nodded your head to the doorway, knowing all of you still had plenty of work to do, and who knows how long this was going to last. The three of you headed out into the real world, where things still went on as normal, nobody acknowledged your presence as you passed people in the motel hallway or continued on driving in their cars in the streets. It almost felt like you were still normal of going on through your day, but as you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk with the brothers to canvas the streets, you turned your head just at the right time to see a jogger coming right in your direction. You couldn’t help yourself but wince, thinking there was a chance she’d been able to see you, or at least, bump into you. But when you opened your eyes, you saw her continue on running down the sidewalk, as if nothing happened.

“That was wild!” Dean remarked, his lips stretching into a grin as he let out a chuckle from what happened. He remembered what Pamela said, about all of you being nothing more than just pieces of fog, he decided to test the theory as he punched a fist right at his brother’s chest. Your eyebrows shot up when you saw that Sam stood there with no pain, just an annoyed expression settling on his face from Dean’s childish behavior. “Am I making you feel uncomfortable?”

“Get out of me.” Sam ordered, Dean rolled his eyes and pulled back his arm to his side.

“You’re such a prude.” Dean grumbled at the younger man. “Come on.”

\+ + +

You thought have the chance of being invisible to the naked eye would have made things easier for the three of you. Instead it turned out what you were looking for was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You and the brothers searched every inch of this town, even taking separate sides of streets, but there was no possible sign of demons or a reaper, just folks going along in their normal everyday lives. You stepped out from the small corner shop you scoured and headed for the edge of the sidewalk, catching sight of the boys right as they came back from their own adventures around town. From the frustrated expression settling on their faces, you could tell nobody making progress at the rate you were hoping for.

“Man, we’ve been spooking this town for hours. No demons, no black smoke.“ Dean complained at the lack of evil that was lurking around in the shadows. You and the boys continued on your way across the street, knowing you couldn’t give up just yet. But Dean, being the man that he was, decided to use this new ability for a bit of fun. "Sammy, I say we hit Victoria’s Secret and get our peep on, huh?”

"Oh, you wish.” You muttered to him, a quiet laugh escaping your mouth as you glanced over at a house you were passing by. As your eyes wandered up to the second story window, you suddenly stopped in your tracks, suddenly noticing that you’d made eye contact with someone. You narrowed your gaze to see that there was a boy, mindlessly observing the sight out from the window. But there was the way of how he followed you around that was making you start to become suspicious, your lingering gaze caught the brothers’ attention, they wondered what was going on. “Am I crazy or is he looking at us?”

“It’s 'cause we’ve seen him before.” Dean said, taking notice of what caught your attention and why he seemed so familiar after you asked him. “Newspaper. Cole Griffith, the last person to die in this town.”

Nodding your head, you turned to look at the window once more, thinking you had a possible lead of where you could start to figure out what was going on, but when you put your attention to the window, Cole was gone. You knew spirits couldn’t go very far from where they were killed. You and the brothers ventured into the house to see if you could figure out where Cole was hiding out for the past few weeks. The house was quiet for the most part, but when you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps and what you suspected was a ball being thrown against the wall, you had a clue of where the boy was. You and the brothers headed upstairs and walked down to the only opened door in the hallway. Out of instinct, you jumped out of the way when you saw Mrs. Griffith running out of her son’s bedroom, dodging a soccer ball that was thrown her way from an invisible force. You peeked inside the room to see that Cole was standing by his dresser, aggressively throwing whatever sort of balls he could get his hands on. As he threw a push basketball, Dean jumped slightly when it was aimed in his direction, but ultimately passed right through him.

"Stop!” Dean shouted, managing to keep himself from being targeted by a football. The boy listened for a moment when he realized all of you could see him. “How are you doing that?”

“Who are you?” Cole questioned all of you.

“Relax, Cole. It’s okay.” You said, putting your hands up in the air for a moment. The boy didn’t seem to be showing signs of putting his guard down when he put his suspicious gaze over you, asking of how you knew his name. You let out a quiet breath as you tore your gaze away from him for a moment before looking over at the brothers. Shrugging your shoulders, you knew this was going to come out, scary as it would be for him. “Look, this isn’t gonna be easy to hear, but you’re dead. You’re a spirit. Us too.”

“Yeah, thanks Haley Joel. I know I’m dead.” Cole seemed to have been sarcastic for just a preteen, he whipped out a remark as he rolled his eyes from the statement he knew for days. “What do you want?”

“We just want to talk.” You admitted to him.

“About what?” Cole asked.

“Well,” You gave him a small smile from the topic that landed him here in the first place. “About how you died.”

Cole was hesitant to speak about the traumatic memories that landed him into the spirit world. He fell silent as you watched him exit the room, saying something about how he liked watching his mother to make sure she was safe. She was alone for the most part during the day, his father gone back to work, leaving her to be bombarded with her thoughts. You leaned against the kitchen doorway as the brothers occupied themselves in some chairs right in the dining room. Cole watched as his mother poured herself a drink of wine, unaware of the people watching her every move. Her son watched as she continued on her daily ritual to get through the day. She was never a drinker, not until he passed almost two weeks ago.

“I was outside all morning.” Cole said. He pushed himself off the wall and turned to look at the three of you, his mother now was now in the living room, trying to occupy her busy mind by trying to force herself into daytime television. “They tell you to be careful when it’s cold.”

“Cold air can cause an asthma attack?” Dean asked the younger man.

“Yeah. But then I was in my room. It happened so fast. I called out for my mom, but nothing came out.” Cole admitted. He walked forward to the table to where the brothers were, you could see his facial expressions change at the painful memory brought back. “Everything started spinning, and then I was just standing there, looking down at my body.”

“And that’s when you saw the man?” You asked.

“Creepy, old guy in a black suit. He wanted me to go with him, but…” Cole stopped for a moment, he looked over his shoulder to see his mother. You glanced over at the woman who was huddled on the couch, it wasn’t hard to see the pain in her eyes, grief was still fresh in her fragile mind. “I didn’t want to go.

"Reaper.” Sam whispered, his hushed tone of voice made your eyes flicker over to him from what he’d said. You nodded your head when you understood what the boy was trying to describe, knowing you’d encounter at least two during your time of hunting. “How’d you get rid of him?”

“I didn’t. The black smoke did.” Cole answered. You furrowed your brow and repeated what you heard, suddenly curious to know more about what he saw, after all, it was what you and the brothers sent almost all afternoon looking for. “It was everywhere. I hid in the closet, and when I came out, it was gone, and so was he.”

“Do you know where the smoke went?” Dean asked.

“No. But I know where it is.” Cole said, giving you a spark of hopefulness. But the feeling only lasted for so long under these type of circumstances. When he spoke the information that you’d been wanting to hear, your eyes jumped away from the boys when you noticed the lights around the room began to rapidly flicker, giving you a warning that trouble was brewing, and the boy wasn’t going to be sticking around to find out who it was from the fear you heard in his voice when he spoke up again. “They’re back.”

Cole disappeared from your sight before you could ask him who was coming. You looked around the room to see what was going on, but the sudden gust of wind that blew right past you made you shield your eyes as your hair flew around, causing it to making a few strands land in your eyes. You brushed your hair back into place when you heard Sam say that it was another reaper, probably here to go after Cole when the first reaper failed to do the job. All of you rushed to the staircase, Dean shouted on the top of his lungs that you three needed to talk to him. You stood at the bottom step, almost expecting to see what Cole had described before, the old man dressed in a black suit to greet him for the afterlife. Instead you watched as a young woman descend down the stairs. She seemed no older than you, and for some reason, she recognized you from another time.

“Dean and Y/N.” She spoke your name, as if you were supposed to know who she was.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, “Do we know you?”

“Oh,” She gave you a small smile and a tilt of the head. “We go way back.”

You stared at the reaper for the longest amount of time, trying to recollect on any sort of memory that you had before in your encounters of death. The first time you’d had a brush of it was when you were thrown into the hands of a faith healer who’d gotten a reaper on a tight leash. But the one you’d seen was an old man, dressed in a black suit like Cole had seen himself. You stepped back so she could take the final step off the staircase, you and the boys followed behind her when she nodded for all of you to join her in the hallway. Dean seemed to be just as skeptic, not sure where he had saw her before himself.

“Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl say that…” Dean tried making a remark, you shot him a look to keep toward the conversation. “You’re gonna have to freshen our memories.”

You watched as she reached out a hand to place it on your arm, making you both figure out where you’d seen her before, only dragging you back to the painful memories of the car accident. When you first saw her, she wasn’t in the form she was in front of you, instead you remembered waking up to seeing your father—he was sitting next to your beside at the hospital, looking exactly of how you pictured inside your mind when you were young, it was always something you imagined when you recollected on him. He lead you out of bed and to the real you, the person who was lying in another room, slowly coming back from health. Now you remembered seeing her. She transformed herself into the woman when she realized you weren’t on the edge of death anymore. It was Dean she was after, she showed you him…all before you woke up after sustaining injuries that should have killed you. But you two were the lucky ones that slipped through her fingers, and for very different reasons.

“Tessa.” Dean whispered the woman’s name.

“That’s one of my names, yeah.” She said as she pulled back her arm to her side, nodding her head.

“So,” Sam spoke up, his gaze seeming to lingering around you and his brother, confused at what was going on here. “You two

know her.”

“From the hospital after the accident.” You said, shaking your head from the familiar memories that were clouding your mind.

“The accident with Dad?” Sam asked, you looked over at him from his question, you nodded your head to answer. “So, this is the reaper that came after you?”

“Yeah.” Dean mumbled.

“Well, this was fun.” Tessa said. She gave you and the boys a slight smile as she placed her hands inside her jean pockets, knowing there was still a soul that needed her undivided attention. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait, wait, wait, you can’t—you can’t take the kid.” Dean said, cutting off the reaper mid sentence as he stepped in her way, blocking the entrance to the stairway. She gave him a look, questioning him why this concerned her in doing her job properly. “Demons are in town, that’s why. They’ve already snatched your reaper pal. The kid knows where.”

Tessa didn’t seemed too concerned, “So?”

“So, you should shag ass.” Sam warned the reaper. “For all we know, they could try and snatch you, too.”

“Except that this town is off the rails, and someone has to set it straight.” Tessa said, her eyes flickering over to Sam. She didn’t seem the least bit worried about demons and their plan. You looked over to the other side of the room to see that Mrs. Griffith was gathering up her purse and keys, ignorant to the conversation you all were having in the middle of her living room.

“Yeah, we understand that,” You said to the reaper, your attention lingering back to her as Cole’s mother walked right past you and out the front door. “But these are special circumstances.”

“What? Your whole angel-demon dance-off? I could care less.” Tessa admitted with a nonchalant tone of voice. “I just want to do my job.”

“Right, yeah, and look, we want to help you do your job.” Sam said. He was trying his hardest to be helpful with this situation, but it was becoming harder to tell from his tone he was using on the reaper. “So, if you would just bail town—”

“No.” Tessa said, cutting off the man.

“Well, then, could you off until we fix this?” You asked her, hopeful there was a bit of wiggle room she would allow for all of you. Tessa looked over at you when you jumped into the argument. “Please.”

Tessa was silent for a moment, she contemplated for a moment if she wanted to be apart of this mess, knowing it was almost two weeks of chaos roaming around in this town. But it seemed the reaper was thinking about changing her mind when she let out a quiet sigh before she spoke up again. “All right, but just so we’re clear, when I start reaping again, I’m starting with the kid.”

“Understood.” Sam agreed with the terms without a hint of hesitance his tone. You glanced over at him from what he said next. “Y/N and I’ll find him.”

You were about to follow behind the younger man in the search of finding Cole, but before you could even take a step, Dean stopped the both of you from heading upstairs to see if he was hiding up there. He asked what you two were going to say to him, a kid who was still clinging onto the real world because he was scared of leaving his mother. You let out a sigh, knowing this was going to be one of those times where you had to lie straight through your teeth in order to get what you wanted from him. You and Sam made the walk upstairs, both having a feeling of where you could find the boy hiding, knowing he’d given you a hint after coming across the demon smoke that frightened him. You walked in the hallway to see his bedroom door was parted open halfway. You looked over at Sam from over your shoulder before you were sneaking inside, he looked around the room to see if he could find Cole, you already spotted his hiding spot when you noticed the closet door opened to a slight crack.

You walked past the closet, not bothering to look inside, knowing you were going to find Cole sitting on the ground, huddled in the corner. You left him as he was, you occupied yourself by leaning against the wall and falling to a sitting position, you nodded for Sam to follow behind. “This all must be pretty overwhelming, huh?” You started the conversation between the three of you, Sam was now sitting right next to you, knowing both of you had your work cut out. “Pretty scary, too.”

“The worst is my mom.” Cole spoke up after a moment of silence, almost making you believe he wasn’t going to even talk to you both at all.

“Must be hard seeing her like this.” Sam said.

Cole pushed himself closer to the front of the closet door, you turned your head slightly to see part of his face peek out into the sunlight coming from the window. He was slowly becoming more comfortable around the two of you as he continued on the conversation. “She’s always coming here, talking to me, telling me how sad she is.” He said to you. “I knock some stuff over to let me know I’m here, but she only gets sadder.”

“Well, you might want to ease up on the flying soccer balls.” You whispered to him, you gave him a wink from the event that happened from before.

“I’m not telling you where the smoke is.” Cole said, your smile faulted at his blunt statement.

“Hey,” Sam decided to try at winning over the boy with his own persuasion, going a route you didn’t want to do, but it was the plan he’d been hatching inside his mind since coming up here. You tore your gaze away from Cole as Sam continued on talking, making promises he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep. “What if I told you that if you helped me and Y/N, you wouldn’t have to leave here—ever?”

“What about the one downstairs?” Cole asked.

“Tessa? Oh, she wouldn’t bother you.” Sam said with a casual tone. You kept yourself quiet as you watched from the corner of your eye when Sam shook his head, somehow it was easy for him to continue on, giving the poor boy a sense of hope that things were going to end up the way he’d wanted. “No reaper would. You could just stay here with your family for as long as you wanted.”

“You could do that?” Cole’s asked once more, you could hear his voice changing.

“Yeah, you bet I can do that.” Sam continued on the lie, ignoring the look you were starting to give him.

“You swear?”

“I swear.”

\+ + +

Lying wasn’t something you had a problem with, sometimes you needed to sprinkle a few white lies sentences to get what you wanted, and considering the fight you were up against, it was the right thing to do. But you couldn’t help yourself but feel a sting of guilt as you watched Cole descend down the staircase first as he went to confront the reaper that was here for him. The only reason why he was keeping himself around was because of his mother, it made him upset to leave the woman alone in such a fragile state. Sam promised that if he told the both of you the information you needed to hear, Cole would be able to stay for long as he wanted, no consequences would follow. As you stepped down to the first floor and followed behind, Sam cleared his throat to announce his arrival, seeming to break a conversation his brother was having with Tessa. You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced down at Cole, you nodded your head and gave him a smile when he hesitated to walk closer to the reaper.

“Hi Cole. I’m Tessa.” She greeted the younger boy with a warm smile, starting off the conversation with a gentle approach. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Cole.” You reassured him. “Just tell them what you told Sam and me.”

There was a moment of silenced hesitance from Cole, he exchanged a few looks between you and the younger Winchester. He finally settled his gaze on Tessa, giving the useful information to her and Dean. “I saw the black smoke at my funeral.”

“At the cemetery?” Dean asked, Cole shook his head no.

“At the funeral home.” Cole explained to the four of you. “It was everywhere.”

You understood why demons would have attacked there, a reaper would probably come after the soul could see they were finally dead and the people had a chance to mourn. They had one reaper down, but the breaking of the seal required just one more before tonight’s end for this to work. You knew just as the thought crossed your mind, the flashing flickering lights coming around you meant trouble wasn’t far behind. You could hear the slamming of the front door burst open, making your head snap over to see what the hell was going on. A thick cloud of black smoke, too familiar not to recognize, filled the entire room, making all of you shield your eyes for just a moment. A harsh wind blew through the air, all though it lasted long as it came in. When you felt the room come to an eerie calm after a second, you slowly dropped your hands to your side, your eyes jumped around the room to see the damage that was done.

You examined the group to see that the boys were still here and Cole stood at your side, but you could feel your stomach drop at the realization of Tessa’s disappearance. “Cole, you okay?” Sam asked, you looked down to see the boy was a bit frightened from what happened again.

“Well,” Dean let out a frustrated sigh when he glanced over at the front door. “How the hell are we supposed to fight that?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, sharing the same aggrieved tone of voice from what just happened without a proper warning to prepare. “Learn some ghost moves?”

“By tonight, Y/N?” Dean asked. You tilted your head to the side from the frustration he was lashing at you on from the lack of proper suggestions you were giving him. “Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you back at Mr. Miyagi’s.”

“Who’s Mr. Miyagi?” Cole asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a pitiful laugh from the reference he couldn’t get. “Oh, boy.”

\+ + +

The first lesson in becoming an all mighty and powerful spirit was the ability to move things with your mind. You and the boys had at least several hours until sundown, giving you a chance to learn the skills spirits had years to perfect and master. All of you seemed to have gotten the handle of holding inanimate objects in your hands without letting them slip through your fingers and breaking. You leaned against the front door with Sam as you watched Dean become the first student of the new lesson. Cole decided to start the three of you off with a easy task, moving to the front porch, he instructed to move a few objects around to get started. Dean thought it would be easy enough and tried taking down a small windmill that had a cowboy running on a horse for decoration on top that would move as the breeze past it. A total of five minutes had passed of Dean standing there and looking at the thing, but nothing changed.

“You know,” Cole reminded the man with a snarky tone when he saw the lack of change. “It’s not gonna move if you don’t concentrate.”

“I am concentrating.” Dean said with a frustrated tone as he looked over at the boy. Cole gave him a look that seemed to have made him think otherwise about that. But that wasn’t going to stop Dean from trying once more, he exhaled a deep breath and put forth all of his attention on just that object. You and his brother waited a second or two before anything else happened, but when it did, your eyebrows shot up when you noticed the cowboy start to move back and forth for a few seconds before it stopped. The man seemed proud of his progress that was coming along. “Ah, here we go, baby.”

“You pull a muscle?” You couldn’t help yourself but tease the man at his effort.

“All right, Carrie,” Dean said. He looked over his shoulder and stepped out of the way, challenging you to see if you could do better than him. “Let’s see what you got.”

You pushed yourself off the door and headed forward to the spot he was previously occupying to make this easier. You always tried to move objects with your mind when you were much younger, influenced from the shows you’d watched, for awhile you thought you could possess some kind of cool power like telekinesis. Letting out a small breath, you studied the objects around on the porch, knowing there were several different targets you could manipulate for your advantage. But for now, you put forth your attention on the cowboy. You concentrated on having it move just the slightest, just picturing the object to start moving back and forth like you wanted. After a tedious long moment, you could feel a spark ignite in you when you saw the cowboy move forward and then back, slowly moving faster the harder you thought about it.

Your eyes glanced away from the windmill when you remembered about the swinging bench and wind chimes across the way. Being the one to put yourself up for the challenge, you concentrated on the windmill in the back of your mind before focusing on the bench from the corner of your eye. It took a few seconds or so until you heard the creaking from the old wood and iron chains that kept up the bench. And just a second later, you could feel your lips stretching into a smirk when you heard the wind chimes start tinkling softly in the background, blending together with the other objects you were moving without even a single touch. Somehow it was easy to focus the things around you and miniplate them of how you pleased. It didn’t take much for it to stop, you let out a breath as you could feel confidence start to bubble inside your chest, thinking you might be able to get ahold of this before tonight.

“Dude!” Dean’s lips stretched into a grin at the liabilities you were about to pick up quickly. You let out a small chuckle as you looked over at Sam, who was rather impressed himself at what you were able to to do. “You are so Amityville, Y/N.”

“That was impressive.” Cole admitted, shrugging his shoulders at what you were able to do in such a short amount of time. “But we haven’t even gotten to the good stuff, yet.”

You had to be honest, you were starting to become more excited about what you were going to be able to learn. Confidence was building up in your mind as you all headed back into the house and followed Cole into the living room, where he was going to teach you the next lesson, which would be fighting. Your first few hours of being a spirit wasn’t much fun, each time you tried touching something, your body would just slip through the matter. But the more each of you concentrated hard enough, you were able to almost be human again, you reached out an arm and lightly punched Sam in the shoulder, and like you presumed, he flinched at the unexpected touch. When he looked down at you, your lips stretched into a smirk, knowing you were getting better at this.

“No, no. You gotta really do it hard. Like this.” Cole instructed the next lesson by showing what he really was capable of. Despite his small size, you watched as he swung back an arm and punched Sam directly in the gut, making a muffled groan come out from the taller man. He tried his hardest not to react as he leaned over, brushing off the pain like nothing. Cole turned around and looked at you and Dean. “See? If you want to hit something, you just gotta get mad.”

“Yeah,” Sam grumbled at the younger kid. “Got it.”

“Now you try.” Cole instructed to Dean. “Hit me.”

“Uh,” Dean chuckled out at the offer. He gave the boy a smile before looking over at his brother, who was much more of an option he would be willing to spar on, like always, when it came to keeping his skills from becoming rusty. “I think I’ll stick to just picking on somebody my own size.”

You decided to give yourself a chance at seeing what you were capable of for this round. You weren’t much competition to the boys, considering the weight and height each of them had on you, but you were curious to see if Dean was up for the challenge of taking you on. You stepped forward and cracked your knuckles, prompting the older Winchester to drop his gaze down upon on you. “Come on, Winchester.” You egged him on. Dean just stood there and shook his head, prompting you to grow a smirk on your lips from the lack of hesitance. “Fine. Ladies first, I guess.”

You focused all your thoughts and aggression like Cole told you to do. With your fingers wrapping themselves into a tight fist, you swung the first punch at Dean without a chance to block. You aimed directly at his face, giving enough force for him to stumble backward, and somehow settle an ache into your hand from how hard you did it.

Sam let out a laugh from the move you were able to pull on his brother, Cole turned around to face him, deciding that he could be next. “Hit me as hard as you can.” Cole said, letting the man have a little bit of revenge from the cheap shot he pulled earlier.

“Dude, I’m not gonna do ‘Fight Club’ with a twelve-year-old.” Sam said, deciding that he was going to be like his brother and take the high road. It seemed a bit too easy to punch a kid that was nearly half his size. But Cole wasn’t afraid to punch the man right in the jaw, giving enough force to actually inflict pain into Sam. You knew it was your turn to let out a chuckle. Sam flicked the hair out of his face and rolled his eyes before looking down at Cole with an aggravated expression. “All right, cut it out.”

Cole wasn’t going to listen to the command. Instead, he threw another punch at the man, going for the lower gut. But Sam’s hunter skills kicked in, he blocked the punch and went to make a move with his other hand, but before he could get the punch in like he wanted, Cole disappeared from your sight in a blink of an eye. You were startled when he just vanished like that. But when you heard a familiar childlike laugh come from behind, you quickly turned around to see that he was standing right behind you. You almost forgotten about teleportation, knowing it was one of the things you hated when it came to hunting spirits. One minute they were there, the next you didn’t know where the bastard was going to pop up next. You decided to take your spin on it, closing your eyes, you pictured another spot in the room that you wanted to be. It felt strange at first, almost like you were being lifted up in the air, but when your feet touched the ground, you realized you made it all the way back into the dining room when you opened your eyes once more..

“That’s not fair, Y/N. How come you’re getting this faster than us?” Dean complained. You couldn’t help yourself but grin like a fool, knowing being a spirit might have been a pain to hunt, but being one wasn’t so bad. “You got to teach us that, for sure.”

\+ + +

Hours later of training, you and the brothers had almost mastered everything there was to being a spirit. Cole wasn’t that bad of a teacher, showing you techniques that he learned through the week of being alive. But as the sunshine disappeared, you knew it was a matter of time before the moon came out, signaling the fight you were about to head for. You weren’t nervous as you were before when it came to facing Alastair and his little demon friends now that the playing field was a bit more leveled. The directions Cole gave you to the funeral home wasn’t that hard to find, it was a building just a few minutes into town. Not to mention you noticed it from the street you were walking up to it after it stuck out like a sore thumb from the rest with its walls written with some strange symbols that almost seemed to glow in blue. You furrowed your brow as you and the boys headed forward to inspect the details, unsure of what it was or meant, you knew enough it wasn’t good.

“This looks like 'New Jack City.’” Dean remarked. He looked around the streets to see townsfolk going on about their night, having conversations and walking to their destinations without much care about their surroundings. “Can anybody see it?”

“Maybe it’s demon invisible ink,” Sam presumed. “Only see it in the veil.”

“What do you think it’s for?” Dean asked the both of you.

You shrugged your shoulders, “We'll find out.”

You noticed the front door was opened the slightest, giving you enough room to squeeze yourself inside as the brothers followed along in your actions. The three of you stepped inside the building to take a quick walk through, wondering if there was any demons lurking around. You wandered through the place, seeming to only come up with nothing but silence as you rounded back to the brothers, both of them shook their heads at finding anything quite useful over here. Knowing there was still more to explore, all of you continued on the hunt, deciding to walk down the hallway that lead to another part of the funeral home. As you turned your head to look into the actual set up where the services would take place, you stopped in your tracks to see Tessa and another reaper lying on the floor, unconscious and stuck inside some trap. You quickly stepped backwards when you caught sight of a man with his back turned to you. When you realized it was a demon, you decided to have a bit of fun, knowing you had a few new abilities to test out.

You took a few steps forward to the demon, who seemed oblivious to the fact the three of you were around, he was preoccupied with staring at the coffin that was on display to see you sneak up behind him. You used your new and helpful abilities to transport yourself all the way across the room until you were standing right behind him. You reached out a hand to lightly tap him on the shoulder. When the demon turned around to see who it was, your lips stretched into a smirk as you took the opportunity to punch him directly in the face, using enough force to knock him down a bit. The demon brushed off the punch and stumbled back to his feet, as he tried to take a swing at you, he only aimed at the air, almost crashing forward when you vanished from his sight. You let out a chuckle when you reappeared from behind him again, causing the man to turn around and try again to go for the target. Still, you vanished from his sight when he threw a punch.

The demon let out a few unnecessarily mean words when he regained his composure. He scanned the room to see if you were around, the anger that was boiling inside his chest was getting him riled up for a fight. "Now, now.” The demon twisted around on the soles of his shoes when he heard your voice. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you leaned against the coffin with your arms crossed over your chest, too casual for his personal taste. “We can’t hog all this fun between the both of us.”

You tore your gaze away from the demon when you looked to see the brothers popped up, deciding to have a chance for themselves at a real target. Both boys tossed around the demon like a rag doll, kicking and punching however they pleased. You followed behind them as the demon fell to the ground, trying to get away from the fight that had landed him three against one. "You know, this ghost thing,” Dean rounded the coffin as he glanced down at the demon, amusement in his tone from how this was going. “It’s kind of rad.”

But the fun was only going to last for so long. You quickly looked over your shoulder when you heard the sound of someone groaning in pain. Trouble seemed to find you wherever you went, you knew there was only a few things that spirits and demons had a weakness to, and that was iron. You looked around to see the coffin was being lined with an iron chain, trapping you and the brothers insides, not before the other demon you’d been kicking around made his escape by climbing over the coffin and helping his partner secure the chain. You let out a frustrated breath as you looked around to see the predicament you were put into. Yet things were only getting worse when you looked around the room, spotting yet another demon who decided to make his entrance

into the room. You could feel your fingers wrapping themselves into a tight fist in anger when you saw his eyes turn upwards into a pale white shade, making you realize the familiar demon you were going up against.

“Y/N and her boys…” Alastair’s new meat suit had a voice that was somehow different, mastering a low and monotone pitch. Still somehow it made a bad shiver run down your spine as he looked at the three of you with a smirk. “Find the place okay?”

You answered him with a hardening glare, knowing the predicament that you ended up in wasn’t a smart one. Alastair seemed to enjoy the sight as he walked forward to the iron, his attention being kept at the looks you and the boys were giving him. Your gaze drifted away from him for the moment when you noticed the demon you’d attacked before had come back with what appeared to be a shotgun.that captured his interest. Alastair held up the weapon to the dim fluorescent light, seeming intrigued at the design of the gun, his fingers wrapped around the front-end as his other pressed itself lightly on the trigger. You narrowed your eyes on him when he finally looked back over at the brothers, seeming to have an idea hatching inside his mind. The demon lifted down the gun and pointed the barrel straight at Dean, he gave no warning before his finger pressed down on the trigger, sending a round straight at the hunter. You watched as he disappeared from sight for a moment, knowing it was a matter of time before he transitioned back to himself.

“Rock salt’s not so much fun anymore, is it?” Alastair asked, his expression nothing short of amusement the deadly glare that was starting to settle in your and Sam’s faces. You opened your mouth to make a remark at the demon, but before a word could come out, Alastair cocked back the gun and took a shot at you, making you disappear from sight for just a moment before you came back right after Dean. You winced from the pain that felt like a an actual bullet to your stomach, all though it wouldn’t harm you, this was more of a torture Alastair enjoyed. “You gotta be quicker than that, darling. I’m feeling a little trigger happy today.”

“Alastair,” Dean greeted the demon with a harsh tone. “You bastard.”

“Well, go on. Why don’t you try some of your mojo on me now, hotshot?” Alastair ignored Dean for the moment, deciding to turn his taunting to Sam, knowing he couldn’t do anything now. You looked over at the man standing next to you. The last time the two met Sam was nearly ready to exorcise him back to Hell for good. But Alastair turned the tables, happy to know he’d gotten the man exactly at the weak spot that would fit to his pleasure. “It’s hard to get it up when you’re not wearing your meat, huh?”

“Go to hell.” Sam hissed at the demon.

“Ah, if only I could, but they just keep sending me back to this arctic craphole.” Alastair remarked, brushing off the insult as nothing he wouldn’t choose to have. He turned his back to the three of you, focusing his attention on the reapers he’d snatched for his own reasoning. You amused yourself by asking if it was to kill death, knowing the sentence was almost comical and deserved a laugh. Alistair looked over at you and shook his head to correct you. “No, Y/N, to kill death twice. It takes two to break a seal. I figured another one would show up, though. They’re like lemmings.”

Alastair circled around the reapers that were still unconscious at his feet. With time still remaining, he cocked back the gun and decided to continue on target practice. He headed forward to the three of you and aimed the gun, taking a moment to see who he should take out next. You flinched when the gun was aimed in your direction, Alastair smirked to himself at your reaction, but you weren’t the one he wanted. Instead he shot directly at Sam, giving him a taste of punishment that he deserved. “By the way, it’s uh, good to see you again, Dean.” Alastair said as he walked up to the iron chain. His eyes drifted away from the man and onto you, his eyebrows shot up, almost seemed surprised at the question he asked you. “I see you two are…a

?”

“Screw you.” You hissed at him with a venomous tone. Alastair brushed off your remark with a low chuckle at your attempt of being harsh. “You can shoot us all you want, but you can’t kill us.”

“Ah, is that so, dear?” Alastair asked, making your expression change slightly from what he could have been proposing. You almost forgotten about Pamela and the fragile state you left her in, not to mention your bodies just lying around, vulnerable for anyone to attack how they pleased. But Alastair drew you out of your thoughts when he switched out the shotgun for what appeared to be a scythe, a tool widely associated with the grim reaper. He sharply inhaled as his fingers grazed the curved iron and short wooden handle. He lifted up to examine in better detail, your eyes followed it as he went. “Anyhoo…moon’s in the right spot. The board is set. Let’s get started, shall we?”

“You’re gonna kill a reaper with that thing?” Dean asked with a little bit of snark in his tone from what he saw. Alastair looked over at the man, his lips tugging ever so slightly from the remark. “It’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” Alastair asked, a bit dumbfounded as he examined the scythe for a moment. “An old friend lent it to me. You know, he doesn’t really ride a pale horse, but he does have three amigos. And they’re just jonesing for the apocalypse.”

Death was one of the four horsemen, and a large statement to the doom ahead if the seals Lilith wanted to break. You swallowed when Alastair left the conversation to end at that piece of information. He walked over to the reapers that were in need of his attention. As the demon leaned down to the ground to be at better level with his sacrifices, you watched as he roughly grabbed ahold of the reaper by the collar of his suit, forcing the sharp scythe around his throat. “Pays to have friends in low places, don’t you think?” Alastair remarked, knowing that his cocky attitude was justified. He was exactly where he wanted to be, and there was nothing you could do to stop him. “Hic cruor messorius, illud sigillum, quod luciferum referendum obstringit, aperait ut resurgat!”

When the chant was complete, Alastair finished off the reaper by taking the metal edge and slicing the man’s throat. You couldn’t see what happened next, the sudden gust of wind that blew around caused you to shield your eyes, you heard a loud rumble of thunder followed seconds after by a flash of bright light. It was a moment before you saw the scenery go back to normal, and Alistair on his feet again, going for the second and final target, which was Tessa. You tried your hardest to figure out what you could do to stop this before she could be killed and the demon gotten what he wanted, and that would be a broken seal, just one more step into gaining madness. You listened to the familiar chant begin up again, knowing you’d had just seconds, but it seemed Sam figured out a way to save the day.

The three of you might be trapped inside the iron, knowing you couldn’t move yourself around the room, that still didn’t mean you stopped possessing the ability to move objects with your mind. You spotted a chandelier hanging just above the markings on the floor. You blocked out everything around you and focused hard as you could, thinking it couldn’t be that hard. It took a moment before you saw it start moving ever so slowly, but the more all of you concentrated, the faster it was becoming unhinged. You heard Alastair speak the last of the chant, and as he went to finish off the deed, he was stopped when a crashing noise echoed through the room. He glanced down to see the chandelier was lying on the ground, destroying the white paint on the wooden floors, allowing Tessa to be free from his grip. She vanished for a moment, all before popping directly to the three of you. She helped you all out by removing the iron chain, letting you to be free. You gave Alastair a cocky grin of your own, you waved goodbye, all before disappearing from his sight.

\+ + +

You managed to get yourself out of the building, but considering you were still a newbie when it came to figuring out a crash landing, you weren’t exactly surprised to see yourself in the back alley of the building. You looked around to see that nobody was around, the brothers or Tessa, or even another human soul for that matter. With a quiet sigh, you decided to start down the alley, thinking there was a chance both of the boys were back to reality after Pamela conducted the ritual to bring them back. As you neared the edge of the way, you stopped for a moment to face your options of where you wanted to go next. But it seemed you weren’t alone in your travels.

“You can’t run, Y/N.” You quickly stopped dead in your tracks when you recognized that voice, it hadn’t even been five minutes since you heard it last. You looked over to the left to see Alastair was standing right across from you, almost joyful to see that you were alone, and vulnerable. You remained strong willed as you glared at him, following his footsteps forward to you with one step back from you. “Not from me. I’m inside that angsty, little noggin of yours.”

You gave him a deathly glare, knowing you might have been just a spirit, but you possessed the power to get the hell out of here. But before you could think of popping out from his sight once more, you jumped in surprise from the sudden rumble of thunder, followed by a bright light that caused you to shield your eyes. You waited a moment for the fiasco to play out before you were dropping your hands to your side again. You furrowed your brow in absolute confusion when you noticed that Alastair was gone, somehow vanished from your sight.

“What the hell?” You muttered underneath your breath.

But it was the familiar deep and rumbling voice that had you turning around on your heels, facing a pair of blue eyes that you would recognize from anywhere. “Guess again.”

\+ + +

“What just happened?” Castiel repeated your question with almost a lighthearted tone of voice. You furrowed your brow from the way he was acting. You haven’t seen him or any sign of an angel in a few months, ever since the altercations that was surrounded with Anna. She was an angel who’d fallen and turned herself human. You and the brothers fought tooth and nail to make sure she would be safe from harm, despite Hell wanting her for the chance of being one step ahead and Heaven desperate to give her the fatal consequences of disobeying. You should be thankful for Castiel’s help after he saved you from being pulled back into the clutches of Alastair once more. “You and the boys just saved a seal. We captured Alastair. Y/N, this was a victory.“  
"Well, no thanks to you.” You grumbled at him, a little bit angered at his positive attitude.

Castiel looked at you with a rather baffled expression, “What makes you say that?”

“You were here the whole time?” You answered his question with one of your own. You crossed your arms over your chest as Castiel turned his gaze away from you, mumbling that he was here for enough of it, pushing deeper on your nerves that were starting to run thinner. “Well, thanks for your help with the rock salt.”

“That script on the funeral home—we couldn’t penetrate it.” Castiel explained to you, making you fall silent when you realized the symbols you saw outside of the building was a barrier to keep out unwanted angels. It seemed these perfect creatures had their weaknesses, too. “Why do you think I recruited you and the boys in the first place?”

“You recruited us?” You asked with a baffled expression. “How?”

“That wasn’t your friend Bobby who called you, Y/N.” Castiel said. “And it wasn’t Bobby who told Sam about the seal.”

“That was you?” You asked him. You gotten your answer from a nod of the head. For some reason, you were frustrated at his cheap approach, using someone you cared about to his own personal advantage. “If you want our help, why the hell didn’t you just ask?”

“Because whatever I ask, Y/N,” Castiel argued, “You seem to do the exact opposite.”

You looked away from him, having to admit he’d gotten you there on that point. Neither one of you were quite friendly when it came to working together, you bumped heads on what you thought that the right thing to do was. You examined the alley for a moment, knowing there was a question that was lingering in the back of your mind, a promise that you made to a certain boy hang over your head once more. “So, what now?” You asked the angel. “The people in this town, are they just gonna start dying again?”

“Yes.” Castiel answered in a calm tone.

“These are good people.” You said, somehow you found yourself arguing with him, wanting to find a loophole to save a few souls. You knew the people that were touched by getting a second chance at life were taking it, and they were happy. If things went back to normal, you knew their demise would follow, fate would be settled back into place where their date with date would be rekindled again. All thanks to you doing the right thing for the greater good of everyone else still alive. Still, you fought for a happy ending after you got what you wanted. “I did you a favor, the seal is safe. Could you make a few exceptions?”

“To everything there is a season.” Castiel said, giving you a response you didn’t want to hear.

“You made an exception for Dean.” You mumbled to the angel. “Why him?”

“He’s different.” The angel explained, you scoffed at his weakened point.

“He tortured souls in Hell. Damnit, what makes him so special to you?” You questioned the man standing next to you with clenched teeth you found out from the frustration settling in your chest from the lack of answers you were getting. Castiel had drawn himself silent from your anger you were throwing against him, but you aren’t done with the Angel. “You said yourself that you cared for humanity. Hell, you even helped me. Why can’t you save these people, too? Do a little good and be the angel that people think you really are.”

“I wish I could, Y/N. But I can’t. There are rules and reasons to what I am allowed to do.” Castiel admitted. You can see in his eyes that he would do anything to help, you admit your defeat with a frustrated sigh. You suddenly just want to go back, jump into your skin, but before you can find Tessa, your attention jumps back to the angel standing in front of you from what he said next. “All I can say is that the truth will come out. You’ll understand soon of why we need Dean. He’s the only one who can fix the problem.” Your face scrunches up from what Castiel said, but before you can ask him what he meant by that, he presses two fingers against your forehead, sending you back into the real world.

\+ + +

Inhaling a deep breath, your eyes shot open as you gasped for air, suddenly feeling like your body was jumpstarting itself. You leaned forward in bed as your palms pressed themselves against the comforter, trying to figure out what was going on. You remembered speaking to Castiel about something before you ended up back here. You furrowed your brow as you glanced down at the body lying beside you Dean was next to you, still looming around in the spirit world from the way his chest wasn’t moving. You pushed yourself to your feet when you noticed that Sam was on his feet, seeming too caught up in his own thoughts to realize you were back until his head shot forward when the floorboards squeaked from the pressure you put on them. You looked at Sam a bit funny when you caught sight of his expression, there was a sense of uneasiness in the room.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him with a slightly nervous tone.

“I didn’t get to you just yet, that’s what’s wrong.” Pamela’s voice caught you off guard. You jumped slightly when you saw her push herself to her feet, she winced in pain, making your eyes wander down to her stomach, where she pressed a hand against. Before you could ask, she sat at the side of the bed where Dean still laid. “Eager to pop back into your own skin, huh?”

You didn’t say anything as you looked over at Sam again, suddenly wondering what was wrong with Pamela. Nobody answered you to what the hell was going on. She leaned over Dean’s ear and whispered the inclination in his ear like she previously explained. When she changed the familiar line, she knew it was a matter of time until he would be back again. You watched as she pushed herself back to her feet once more, a muffled groan escaped her mouth as she stumbled back to the empty bed, suddenly needing rest. You mumble out Sam’s name once more, almost demanding answers as he helped the psychic the best he could, making a promise that made you realize something went terribly wrong while you and the brothers were away.

“Hey, we just to talk to Tessa, that’s all,” Sam reassured the woman with such a calm and positive tone. He sat at the edge of the bed, trying his hardest to make the woman believe she would live to see another day. “Get her to hold off on reaping till we get you better.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s started up again.” Pamela said with a quiet tone.

You furrowed your brow from the pessimist attitude she was giving, but you understood when you rounded the bed to see that she was pressing her hand to her stomach, trying to keep her blood from pouring through her stab wound, despite the pressure she put on it, the wound kept oozing out through her fingertips. You dropped yourself to the bed Dean was lying on, not even reacting when you heard him gasp for breath, finally coming back to normality. You could feel the guilt wracking into your system when Pamela enjoyed her last few minutes on earth by taking a swing from the metal flask Dean always filled with whisky. When he saw the blood coming from her wound, Dean was sitting up right next to you, panic clear as day in his voice when he asked what happened.

“Dean, where’s Tessa?” Sam asked his brother with a hushed tone. Dean tried giving the both of you the answer you wanted to hear, but he quickly fell silent when he realized Tessa was reaping souls, keeping the business afloat in this town. The three of you realized the damage you’d done, Pamela was forced to pay the price. “Pamela, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop.” Pamela groaned out, frustrated from what she heard from the young man.

“You don’t deserve this.” You whispered to her.

“Yeah, I don’t.” She agreed with you on that point. Pamela took off her sunglasses, showing off her plastic eyes that were put in there because of you. It only added to the boulder that was sitting on your chest from the tragedy you put her through over the past several months.“I told you I didn’t want anything to do with this. Do me a favor? Tell that bastard Bobby Singer to go to hell for ever introducing me to you three in the first place.“

Pamela started to violently cough, the blood was start to move rapidly in her system, probably now filling up in her lungs as she bled further out from her stabwound. "Take it easy, Pamela.” Dean instructed to the woman. “If it’s any consolation to you…you’re going to a better place.”

“You’re lying. But what the hell, right? Everybody’s gotta go sometime.” Pamela said. Even with her last moments on earth, she remained sarcastic and yet positive about the new chapter that waited for her. Pamela waved an arm at Sam singling that she wanted him closer, almost like she was going to hug him. You watched with the slightest confusion as the both of them embraced into a hug. But you had a feeling it wasn’t about sharing one last affection, to him, it was a warning for his behavior she’d felt in the room. “I know what you did to that demon, Sam. I can feel what’s inside of you—Y/N, too. If you think you have good intentions, think again.”

The warning she gave to the younger Winchester would be her dying words. You heard her start to roughly cough as she leaned backward to the pillows, she was at the last moments of her life. Pamela coughed up blood until it sound the edges of her mouth, no response came when Dean shouted out her name with a worried tone. You sat at the edge of the bed with your fingernails digging into the comforter when the room fell silent, so quiet you heard your pounding heartbeat pumping inside your body, a small reminder that you were still alive. But the woman that was lying on the bed beside yours, the one with eerily white plastic eyes and a crimson shade around her mouth and stained fingers, she was long gone.

You couldn’t help yourself when you pushed yourself to your feet and leaned over to the woman. To keep the “She’s still alive” thoughts from running through your mind, you pressed two fingers against her warm skin, feeling nothing jump back at you to signal a pulse. She was dead, just like you knew—and feared. You could feel tears prick your eyes, somehow hoping she

in a better place. And she knew you were sorry for dragging her into this mess.

\+ + +

Lying came almost too naturally to you. Pamela’s death wasn’t going to be handled like any other hunter. You knew she’d had friends out in the world, people who would miss her. You handled her death like it was a break in. You called the police and told them that the dead body of a man once possessed by a demon was her attacker, you’d managed to subdue him after you and the boys stumbled on what was happening. The bloody knife that laid on the ground with his fingerprints on the handle and the open window was enough for them to believe, it was a seedy motel, after all. A crime was another crime. You would have her body out from the morgue by Saturday, the latest, for a proper burial. The hardest part was calling Bobby to tell him the news that Pamela had passed. It was another name crossed off the list of people you could almost consider a friend. Poof—it was gone, quick as the friendship started.

You and the brothers packed up and headed north after Bobby said he would handle the arrangements. After spending most of the day of traveling, all of you agreed that it was better to crash at a motel to build up energy. Hours passed since then and you were now staring at the clock, watching the numbers turn into just about three in the morning. You laid in the scratchy sheets, listening to the humming engines that passed by from the highway and Dean’s soft breathing as he occupied the other side of the bed. After what happened the previous day, you didn’t want to be alone. You thought knowing that Dean was next to you would help you at least catch a few hours of sleep. But you kept replaying all the people that you lost through the past few years; Ash, Andy, Madison, John, and a small part of you was guilty over Bela, despite how she came out. All of the people were tied together because they had a death because of you and the boys. Pamela another addition to the list, making you wonder who would be next.

You slipped out of bed after spending three hours wide awake, your mind quietly buzzing of a name you hadn’t thought about in months—a person that had always been there for you. You shuddered when you felt the cold breeze touch your skin. You thought it probably wasn’t the best idea to just sleep in some shorts and a big shirt you’d stolen from Dean without much of a thought. You never liked cranking the heat when you shared a bed with Dean, his body heat kept you warm enough as you cuddled into the sheets. Exhaustion could also explain why you were shivering, but you couldn’t sleep just yet. You quietly shuffled through your bag until you found your cell phone, the one you’d only used for the old life that you ditched back home.

You flipped it open and went straight through your contacts, it took a moment before you saw his name and number flash on your screen. Despite the time difference between the both of you, you didn’t hesitate to hit the button. You scrambled to your feet and pressed the phone to your ear, as you heard it ring a few times, you walked to the bathroom and shut the door, just as a tired voice answered the call that was coming at midnight.

“Y/N,” You could feel your lips stretching into a lazy smile when you heard Josh’s voice. It almost seemed like you craved to reminded that he was still out there, safe and tucked in his bed, away from harm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You answered his question as you keep your voice quiet as you can, knowing Dean is sleeping in the room next to you. There’s a small window that’s on the wall between the shower and the toilet, thanks the neon motel sign and the streetlamps, you maneuver through the bathroom and sit on the edge of the tub. You hear the silence engulf the conversation for a moment, the months of tension that had built between the both of you creeps in, almost rendering you nervous, not sure what to say next. “I…I just wanted to check up on you. See how things are going for you.”

“Nothing’s changed really since you left.” Josh answers your question. You hear him let out a heavy sigh along with what you predicted was the squeaky bed frame he’d had for years. “Y/N, it’s the middle of the night. I don’t think you’re calling me to ask how the hell I’m doing after you left for what—four months now? Not to mention you were radio silent when you came back in November for that entire month. Thanks for telling me about that, by the way”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to him, wincing at the realization of how much of a horrible friend you’d become to him. You had grown a bad habit of leaving him high and dry, even at the worst when he’d gotten possessed and recollected no memory, you just left him to fend for himself. “I’m such a crappy person I know. But I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

You pull the phone away from your ear and decide if you should end the call as is, knowing from his tone of voice that he doesn’t want to speak to you, and he has every right to. It’s the middle of the night and you can’t expect him to be there for you whenever you need someone to listen to the growing list of problems. Just as your thumb reaches to hit the end button, you stop when you hear his voice once more. “Wait, wait. Y/N. I’m sorry.” Josh rushes out. He realizes how he lashed out at you for no reason, and considering you’re calling him so late, the man knows there has to be something wrong. “I’m an insensitive dick. You’re out saving the world, I’m not.”

A small chuckle escapes your throat as you trace the bathroom titles with your big toe. "Well, I’m trying.” You admit. All though you’re keeping your voice low so nobody can hear you, it’s not hard for Josh to pick up the stress in your voice. And out of habit, he asks what’s wrong. You hesitated for moment to speak the truth that nobody should think about. “But, Josh, I…I need your help.”

“I’m all ears.” Josh says. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t hold back and tell him everything that had been going on over the past several months during your absence away from him. Everything from seeing your father as a demon, what happened in Hell with Dean, angels being real and the seals that were leading to the apocalypse and the freeing of the devil himself if you weren’t careful. Not to mention you wrap up the heavy conversation about Pamela, admitting of how preventable her death was and how guilty you felt. It was almost too much for Josh to wrap his mind around. And you didn’t give him a chance to swallow the truth when you asked him for help. You needed someone sit on the sidelines and help with research when it came to tracking down Lilith and other demons. Bobby was a skilled hunter, but you would feel a bit better knowing there was someone who was able to work a computer to get research done a bit faster. It was a lot to ask, but Josh seemed up for the challenge.

“Hell yeah. Maybe this means I can get a phone call from you that’s not in another six months. Just email me all the old research so I can figure out what I’m doing.” Josh teases you, suddenly his mood shifts into the positive one that you’d grown to miss. You thank him a million times over for the burden he is taking on. “For you, Y/N, I’d do anything. That’s what best friends are for.”

Your heart flutters with happiness when you hear those words, giving you the smallest reassurance that you are doing good in this world. And one of the smartest people you know is on your side. You give him a farewell, making a promise that you would call him tomorrow afternoon. When you hang up the phone and look at the time, you see that it was almost four in the morning now. You can feel a yawn escape your mouth as you shiver, suddenly feeling so tired, and yet, content. You still feel guilty over Pamela’s death, but the thought lingers in the back of your mind, knowing it will be there later to dwell on. Instead you push yourself to your feet and walk out of the bathroom, quietly finding the path back to your bed and slip inside the warm sheets. You bury yourself deep into the covers and rest your head against the pillows.

A moment later you feel the bed shift around in weight, Dean presses his frontside to your back as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to him. You wait for Dean to go back to sleep, but it seemed he was wide awake. “Thought you’d never come back to bed. I was getting pretty lonely.” Dean says, making sure to keep his voice low. The walls inside this motel are paper thin, considering you didn’t want to disrupt the people around you. You let out the slightest noise that sounds like a laugh when his warm hand slipped underneath your shirt and brushed against your stomach. “What were you doing?”

You contemplate for a moment if you want to tell him that you were doing nothing too special. Josh’s involvement would probably get him riled up more than he already was. You knew that Pamela’s death had gotten him upset, too. But you decide to tell him, anyway. “I called Josh.” You told him. Your finger traced the outline of the ring he always wore on his right hand. You wait for a moment to see if he’s going to get upset, he hums quietly. “And I asked for his help…”

Dean suddenly falls silent from the information that you gave him. Part of you is waiting for the backlash you were going to get from involving yet another person into this fiasco. You also knew neither of the boys liked Josh, thinking each time you were around him something bad happened. But it comes to a complete surprise when Dean seems happy. "That’s great, sweetheart.” He almost seems a little bit relieved at the thought of another person to help with this overgrowing problem. But what he says next makes a fraction of a smile spread across your lips. "Long as he stays the hell away from you. I’m still ready to kick his ass for the last time he spoke to me.”

You promise him that Josh had agreed to research only, unlike the three of you, Josh had a job and a life to live. Not to mention his grandparents that were still going strong. You close your eyes and whisper good night to Dean, deciding that it’s the best to keep the conversation for when the sun rises. The three of you have a long journey had over the next few days of traveling and planning a funeral for Pamela. Right before you fall asleep into a dreamless few hours, you think that the worst is over for now.


	16. On the Head of a Pin.

You leaned your elbow against the backseat door of the Impala as you cradled your head in your palm. Your eyes drifted to the countryside that passed all of you by to see what you could make out in the pitch black darkness. The conversation inside the car was reduced to humming of Baby’s engine with Sam behind the wheel as his brother quietly slept for the past few hours. You were lulled into a trance of the raindrops that hit the rooftop. You’d been persistent in keeping yourself busy over the past few days by helping your friend, Josh, make sense of the information you’d sent over to him. The years of research John Winchester had done of the yellowed eyed demon was Josh’s to look over after you spent the afternoon in the library scanning old documents. 

Sam thought dragging another person into this mess wasn’t the best plan of action. You had Ruby, a demon who was tirelessly working to help figure out what was Lilith’s next move was. You understood the man had a different relationship with the demon than you or Dean, you knew Ruby wasn’t MVP amongst her kind. Part of you trusted as far as you could throw her tiny body.

For the most part you kept to yourself after all of you left Pamela’s funeral, Dean fell asleep in the passenger’s side after his brother offered to drive until the next rest stop. You tried to rest your eyes to see if sleep would come, but you ended up wasting an hour of laying in the backseat, you became frustrated from being too wired up about today’s events. There was a persistent nagging that sat in the pit of your stomach, like it was warning you that something bad was going to happen. Like there hasn’t been enough of that already. You brushed it off as nothing, thinking it had been the guilt you pushed off from seeing Pamela die right in front of your very eyes not even four days ago. You retracted your arm from the door and ran your hand down your face as you let out an unwanted yawn. All of you had at least another hour until the next rest stop, you hoped you would be able to make it until then. You wanted to end tonight by taking a long and hot shower before crawling into bed.

Five minutes passed of more silence before you heard the familiar rustle of the leather seats, Dean stirred awake from his nap, mumbling something about where all of you were. He examined around at the surroundings to see that all of you were still far from your next destination. “I got off the phone with Ruby before we left. She agreed on meeting with us outside of Cheyenne. She’s been tracking some leads.” Sam spoke up to answer his brother’s question, deciding now would be the right time to give you both a change in plans. Dean remained silent as he rubbed away the sleep in his eyes. You crossed your arms over your chest and continued on examining the passing scenery. The lack of response wasn’t the one Sam wanted to hear. “Look, I know she’s not exactly on your Christmas list, but if she can help us get to Lilith—”

“Man, work with Ruby, don’t.” Dean muttered. He didn’t seem to put up the usual fight, knowing just to hear the demon’s name would send him off into a rampage. But it seemed he was too tired tonight. “I don’t really give a rat’s ass.“

"What’s your problem?” Sam questioned the older man.

“Pamela didn’t want anything to do with this.” You spoke up for his older brother. You didn’t quite understand how Sam could easily block out the tragedy that happened and focus on hunting again all in the same week. Whatever she said to him, you had a feeling it wasn’t about to just move on and not mourn her death. The look in his eye told a different story he wouldn’t tell you “And we dragged her back into it, Sam.“

"She knew what was at stake.” Sam argued a very weak point to you.

“Oh, yeah, saving the world. And we’re doing such a damn good job of it.” Dean said, letting his frustration be known. He wouldn’t let his little brother continue when he spoke his name. “I’m tired of burying friends, Sam.”

“Look,” Sam understand his brother’s concerns, but he tried steering the both of you back again to the hunt that needed your attention. “If we catch a fresh trail—”

“We follow it. I know.” Dean finished, cutting off the younger man at the advice he’d given him too many times before. He glanced around the back roads that seemed never ending before letting out a quiet sigh. “Like I said, I’m just—I’m just getting tired.”

“Well, get angry.” Sam ordered at his brother.

Sometimes it was easier to be said than done. And in all honesty, you were becoming worn down from constantly throwing yourself into the cycle of emotions to get what you wanted. You leaned back in your seat as you bit down on your tongue, refraining yourself from making a remark of how anger helped anyone. The emotion fueled a desire for some to do unspeakable actions for their own benefit. There was too much hatred and bad emotions that clouded this family. The advice Sam had given you made you think of a quote from Buddha. Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.

\+ + +

The rest of the car ride turned into silence. You were more than thankful when you saw the motel sign come into view and quickly handed a room key after Dean checked the three of you in. You followed behind the brothers as they headed to their motel room, yours happened to be right next door to theirs. You adjusted the strap of your duffel bag as you struggled to get the key into the lock, Sam was quicker than you, undoing the deadbolt and swinging open the door. As they stepped inside, you were were pushing open the door to another two star bedroom for the night. It was a craphole, but it would be home until you were back on the road. You tossed your bags to the floor and pulled out the key from your lock, but as you did the task, a familiar voice caught you off guard. You abandoned your belongs and left your motel door wide open. All it took was one large step forward to peek inside the half opened door of the brother’s own room to let your dreaded guest be known as true.

“Winchester and Winchester.” Uriel, another angel that you’d grown to despise, stood in the middle of the room. His hands were shoved into his dress pockets as he stood there with a casual look on his face. You frowned when you made eye contact as you stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind you to give you privacy. “Of course, Y/N isn’t too far behind. Poking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

"Thought there was a foul smell. Looks like it’s just you.” You remarked to the man. You pressed your backside against the door as your eyes trailed over to the stranger that was lurking in the corner. You caught sight of the familiar trench coat, making you realize Castiel was just silently standing there. “What do you want?”

“Dean is needed.” Uriel answered.

“Needed?” Dean repeated after the angel with a frustrated tone. You glanced over at the hunter standing next to you. His expression drastically changed as his hands clenched together into tight fists. “We just got back from needed!”

Uriel narrowed his eyes at the man to show a displeasure at how he was treated, he shifted around his expression when he heard the human raise his voice. “Now, you mind your tone with me.”

“No, you mind your damn tone with us.” Dean argued with the angel.

You stepped into the conversation when you caught sight of Dean’s changing expression. These past few weeks have been tiresome on all of you, but it was the hardest on Dean. You could hear him start to give off some of the anger by the tone of his voice and how he scrunched up his brow and pouted out his lips. It was rare, but Dean had his breaking points over the years, you had a feeling nothing good would come of if he kept pushing himself. He was tired, you just hoped whatever they needed could wait until tomorrow after he got some rest. “Look,” You lightly grabbed a hold of Dean’s arm before he could make a move. “We just got back from Pamela’s funeral.”

“Pamela—you know, psychic Pamela? You remember her. Cas,” Dean put on a sarcastic smile as he glanced over at the angel. You mentally winced at how he threw a bitter memory at him, like he was going to admit sympathy. “You remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times! Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals. So,” His voice went louder as he made a valid point to the men standing in the room. “Maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!”

“We raised you out of hell for our purposes.” Uriel remained eerily calm to prove his generosity.

“Yeah, and what were those again?” Dean questioned the angel. “What exactly do you want from me?”

“Start with gratitude.” Uriel hissed at the hunter without a second of hesitancy.

You could feel your grip around Dean’s arm tighten at Uriel’s comment that wasn’t helping anything. Tensions were high between all of you, and things were only going to get worse if they kept it up. “Dean, we know this is difficult to understand.” Castiel spoke up, directing all eyes on him when he tried to be the voice of reason here. His gaze faltered away from you and the boys when he noticed Uriel’s disapproving glare. “And—”

“We. Don’t. Care.” Uriel answered for the angel, changing what he was going to say. You narrowed your eyes on Castiel for a moment, watching as he followed a silent order from his fellow co-worker. And just in the blink of an eye, he stood there, refraining himself from saying anything more. You looked over at him, knowing Uriel was here, and he seemed adamant on being the one to break the news. “Now, seven angels have been murdered—all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight.”

“Demons?” You presumed. You retracted your arm away from Dean when you thought he’d gotten the chance to calm down. Uriel tiled his head to the side, seeming like that was a yes to your answer. “How are they doing it?”

“We don’t know.” He admitted to all of you.

“I’m sorry,” Sam put himself into the conversation after he was baffled for the reason why the two angels were here in the first place. “But what do you want us to do about it? I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?”

"We can handle the demons,” Uriel said. “Thank you very much.”

“Once we find whoever it is.” Castiel added on.

Dean fell silent for a few moments, listening to the conversation go on around him. He took a step across the room as his eyes wandered over to Uriel, seeming to notice the small cracks of confidence from the input Castiel put in not even a moment ago. “So you need our help,” The hunter trailed off for a moment as his finger pointed to you and his little brother. You could hear the tiniest bit of amusement in his voice from the reason why the both of them were really here for. “Hunting a demon?”

“Not quite.” Castiel said. He took a handful of steps until he was standing right next to Uriel to deliver the news you’d witness with your own eyes. “We have Alastair.”

“Great.” Dean said. “He should be able to name your triggerman.”

“But he won’t talk.” Castiel finished the information that he was giving, putting the damper in the mood you’d been having about this entire situation. You knew there was another reason why they were here, and it was more than just about hunting a demon, but they weren’t getting to the point just yet. “Alastair’s will is very strong. We’ve arrived at an impasse.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not surprised. He’s Pisacco with a razor blade.” You admitted with a heavy sigh. You had a few fatal scars to prove your point after your last encounter with the demon and his infamous torture sessions. Just the memory could send a cold shiver down your spine. As you glanced between the two men standing in front of you, you crossed your arms over your chest, baiting your way for a proper answer. "I mean, you guys are out of your league.”

“That’s why we’ve come to his student and favorite pet.” Uriel said, your eyes quickly glanced over at him from what you heard. “Dean, you happen to be the most qualified interrogator we’ve got. And Y/N, I’m sure you’ve learned a few things down there. You might be useful for a change.”

All these months you spent trying to bury the emotions and bitter memories of Hell and here they were, asking for you to pull them back out without a damn about the possible consequences to you. You weren’t going to drag yourself back into that mindframe because of their selfish reasons of not wanting to get their hands dirty. You gave your answer by shaking your head in disapproval, you weren’t dragging the both of you into this mess. “Dean,” Castiel could see the looks of hesitance come across his face from what was being asked of the both of you. “You two are our best hope.”

“No. No way.” You argued the best you could, hoping your mind could figure out a plan to get them out of here. You threw daggers at Castiel when you stared at him, he should remember very well that he’d dragged you back into remember everything about Hell. You were constantly being told about how much of a nuisance you were, now they were begging for help. Your stomach began to turn itself into knots as you swallowed down the urge to raise your voice. Instead, you tried remaining calm as you could, trying to pry an ounce of sympathy from him. “You can’t ask Dean to do this, Cas—not this.”

Uriel let out a faint chuckle, seeming rather amused from your protests. You tighten your grip around your body as your eyes drifted away from Castiel, you watched as Uriel took slow steps forward until he was leaning down on the table, making sure he was at eye level with you. “Who said anything…” Uriel trailed off for a moment, making your facial expression drop when you realized he was dead serious. “About asking?”

Sam caught sight of the looks of hesitance from you and Dean for a split second. When he blinked, the room suddenly was empty, the only thing left behind was the faint echo of fluttering wings. Out of spite he’d examined the room to see if you or his older brother was around, still, the room remained eerily silent with him being the only present. Sam stood there with fists clenched to his side, the bitter realization that the both of you gone without a trace—and hurled into a nightmare he knew wouldn’t end well if they got what they really wanted out of the both of you.

“Damn it!”

\+ + +

You spent countless months burying the memories of Hell deep into your mind, trying to pretend that it never happened. From what Alastair had done to you all the way to the few torture sessions Dean was allowed to do upon you. All of you relocated into the middle of nowhere, finding a safe haven in some abandoned factory where nobody would hear screams of torture. You could feel your nails prick into your skin at the thought which would soon become a reality. All though you’d enjoyed a few hours alone with the demon that was chained up, your worry was only about Dean. The man was fragile as it already was. He’d been wracked with guilt and remorse for the things he’d done. This was just like throwing him back into the role he’d tried so hard to forget about. This was like opening up a wound and pouring salt directly into it, they didn’t care how much Dean fought and protested, as long as he took his aggression out on Alastair to get a damn name. You examined the demon once more in the small dirty window that overlooked him inside the locked room, somehow hoping you could get out of here quick as you came.

“This devil’s trap is old enochian.” Castiel’s voice came from behind, making you jump slightly after you forgotten he was lingering over you and Dean. “He’s bound completely.”

“Fascinating.” Dean commented. Somehow he managed to keep his tone sarcastic, knowing well enough that he’d dreaded the sight of this place. You watched from the corner of your eye as the man didn’t hesitate to turn himself around and face the angel standing in front of him. You took one more glance at the demon before you felt Dean take ahold of your wrist, leading you to find an exit in this place. “Where’s the door?”

“Where are you two going?” Castiel asked.

“I’m taking Y/N the hell out of here and hitching back to Cheyenne,” Dean explained to the two bastards, ignoring the look Uriel had given him as he passed by. “Thank you very much.”

The two of you made it barely halfway across the room before you stopped dead in your tracks, coming face to face with Uriel. He stood in front of you, a disapproving look was set in his eye from what Dean was trying to do. “Angels are dying, boy.” He reminded the both of you about a fact Dean didn’t really care to hear about right now.

“Everybody’s dying these days.” Dean hissed at the man standing in front of him. He shifted around in his spot to look over at Castiel, wanting to make it clear the consequences that would follow afterwards. “And, hey, I get it. You’re all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want, but you can’t make Y/N do this. She doesn’t deserve to be apart of this.”

"This is too much to ask. I know.” Castiel said. He walked forward to the both of you, as if you were going to walk right out that door. You knew there was no way out of this mess, but if you could, Dean wouldn’t be here to endure the nightmare of this if you had it your way. “But we have to ask of it. Both of you are the only ones qualified enough.”

You could feel the room fall to a dead silence when Dean was given the information he didn’t want to hear. You looked away from Castiel and to the man standing in front of you, forcing yourself to look into the green eyes that were filled with different mixtures of emotions—fear, guilt, sadness. You squeezed his hand, pretending that you were okay, but he could see the mask you put on and the anxiety you tried to hide. He tore his gaze away from you to look at Uriel. “I want to talk to Cas and Y/N alone.” Dean demanded, not even caring if the angel standing in front of him gave backlash. If this was what they wanted, they better listen to every goddamn command thrown their way. 

"I think I’ll go seek…revelation.” Uriel said, his eyes drifting across to Castiel for a moment before back to the hunter. “We might have some further orders.”

“Well, get some doughnuts while you’re out.” Dean said, throwing in a jab at the man.

You expected nothing less of a dirty glare of some remark that had to do with who was in control. But you were thrown through a loop when Uriel stood there for a brief moment and started laughing, like what Dean said was funny to him. “Ah, this one just won’t quit, will he?” Uriel said, seeming to be amused this time with an actual smile. “I think I’m starting to like you, boy.”

It always took you by surprise at how someone could be there, but when you blinked, Uriel was gone from your sight, leaving the three of you alone like Dean ordered. You cautiously glanced around the warehouse to see if he was hiding someone, but your eyes wandered upward, taking notice of the rusty meat hooks hanging just above your head. “You guys don’t walk enough. You’re gonna get flabby.” Dean made a remark himself, Castiel only stood there and gave the man almost a blankless expression, not quite sure what he meant by that. “You know, I’m starting to think Junkless has a better sense of humor than you do.”

“Uriel’s the funniest angel in the garrison.” Castiel said. “Ask anyone.”

You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes at the personality Castiel was starting to show, or the lack there of one, his naive mindset of human emotions was getting under your skin tonight. Dean fell silent for a moment, almost like he wanted to further speculate on what he heard, instead he gotten back to the conversation that was more important. He stepped forward to the angel, giving him a concerned look at the unusual behavior he was seeing from the other times. “What’s going on, Cas?” Dean asked the important question that had been starting to bug him. “Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?”

“My superiors have begun to question my sympathies.” Castiel explained to the both of you as you walked further over to them. You gave him a look as you repeated after what he’d said, unsure of what he’d meant by that. “I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You, Dean. They feel I’ve been to express emotions, the doorway to doubt. This can impair my judgement.”

You remembered the conversation you had with Anna after she figured out who she was, and why she was so desperate to become human. Angels were cold and meticulous creatures; they were to do any command thrown their way, or face consequences. Castiel had subtly admitted his own beliefs to you about having doubts, he even helped you, the person his kind were grown to despise. But it seemed his goodness for the world wasn’t exactly what his superiors wanted to see. That’s why he was so meticulous of what he said and how he was acting around the both of you. Deep down, you he didn’t want to do this. You hoped he would be at least willing enough to bend the rules if it meant getting the information he wanted and let Dean go.

“I’ll do it.” You found your voice, making two pairs of eyes to jump on you, who was lingering for sometime in the background. You ignored the looks that Dean was giving you, the pleading in his eyes wasn’t enough to stop you from proposing a new plan of action. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting Dean in that room with him. Just give me a few hours with Alastair and I should have a name. The bastard deserves it after what he did to me.”

Castiel listened to your negotiations and fell silent for a brief moment when he took his gaze away from the wall he’d been staring at. You gave him almost a pleading look of desperation to just let Dean go, but from the guilty expression that settled across his face for the moment that all of you were alone, you knew there was something he wasn’t telling you. “I can’t, Y/N.” Castiel admitted with a quiet voice. You furrowed your brow as you waited for an answer. “Alastair is a dangerous demon. We need all the help we can get. Dean is the most—”

"No! Dean wasn’t saved from Hell so he could do your dirty work.” You hissed at the angel. You stepped forward to him and roughly jabbed a finger into his chest. Suddenly you could feel a glaze come over your eyes at what was being asked. Your voice became colder when you heard Dean softly speak your name. You ignored him and continued staring down the angel in front of you. “I don’t care who put this idea in your head. You don’t want Dean doing this, trust me.”

“Want it? No.” Castiel agreed with you to a certain extent on your argument. You could feel your gaze hardening when he looked away from you, trying his best to close off any emotion that he might inflict upon you to keep this fight going. “But I’ve been told we need it.”

You drew back your arm to your side when you realized this argument was done, there was no more changing his mind. You could feel yourself turning your attention to Dean, who was standing with his back turned to the both of you, his attention had been focused on the demon awaiting the both of you in the other room. What he would do to get out of here would be unspeakable, but what was being asked of him was just one thing he wouldn’t do. It brought him back to the darkest corners of his mind—and he’d vowed to himself to never touch them, no matter how much he wanted to. Being stuck inside that room with you would be a torture session of his own. He swallowed when he thought again of the times in Hell, what he was manipulated into doing to you and all those souls. This would surely bring back the memories for you, and he never wanted that. Both of you had been trying so hard to forget…all the effort would surely go to waste.

“You ask me to open that door and walk through it…” Dean’s voice might have been too quiet to hear, but the pain was clear enough for you to recognize. “You will not like what walks back out.”

“For what it’s worth…” Castiel couldn’t help himself but speak up, showing remorse for the things he was being forced into doing. “I would give anything not to have you two do this.”

There was no more room for arguing, you knew it was going to be inevitable to squeeze yourself out of this one for you or Dean. Forcing in a deep breath into your lungs, you quietly began to walk forward to the man, knowing this was going to be the hardest on him, more than it would be for you. You stopped right next to him and slowly reached out an arm, all though you were unsure of how he would react, you tried comforting him by wrapping your fingers around his hand, giving a squeeze to show that you were here. He wasn’t going at this alone. But you knew even the comforting thought would be enough when Dean took his gaze away from the door and onto you, making you finally see the dreaded fear creep into eyes from what was about to happen.

\+ + +

You didn’t know what to feel right when you walked through the door, stepping inside the room where a demon you’d grown to hate and fear by the mention of his name. Your mind swarmed with ideas of what you wanted to do to him, figure out all the ways that made him scream in pain, and do it all over until Alastair was the one begging for mercy. Dean walked in front of you with the table full of weapons that were all gathered to make Alastair squirm, and they weren’t lying about him being trapped for good. They’d gotten him chained up, giving you a brief moment of hope that the demon might give a name a night before the sun would rise. You quietly followed behind, keeping your arms crossed over your chest as the door slammed shut behind you. You stood there for a moment and looked over your shoulder, out of the sheer anger against him, you gave Castiel a deathly glare before you were walking over to Dean to help get everything set up.

“Heaven. I’m in Heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” Alastair sang out with a joyous tone. He watched with a sickening glee in his eye as you positioned the table just a few inches away from the devil’s trap. You ignored his antics of trying to get under your skin and make this worse for the both of you than it already was. “I seem to find the happiness I seek. When we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.”

One of the things Alastair did when you first were put into his hands was the big revival, he demonstrated all of his toys on you—and why he’d enjoyed using them so much. You grabbed the navy blue sheet that was covering the table and lifted it off, showing you the weapons and tools, a rather impressive collection. You glanced over at Alastair with a cold look in your eye, he didn’t seem all that impressed. The demon observed the tools as Dean picked out the right one, you could feel your aggression only get worse when he let out a throaty laugh. You let out a breath as Dean looked forward. He dropped a knife to the table and walked forward until he was exactly inside the trap, keep at least half a foot of a distance.

“I’m sorry. This is a very serious, very emotional situation for the two of you. I shouldn’t laugh.” Alastair pretended to apologize, seeming to notice that he hit a nerve in the both of you. His lips stretched into a toothy smirk when he noticed Dean just standing there, with a cold and dangerous look in his eye. But he went on to abuse the sensitive spot. "It’s just that, I mean, are they serious? They sent you and your little bitch to torture me?”

“You got one chance. One.” Dean said. He stood there and spoke in an eerily calm fashion, never flinching when Alastair tried to get under his skin. It was one of the many ways that the demon made him snap so soon. He’d had a malicious way of knowing what made Dean tick. Attacking the people he loved was a good start. But Dean wasn’t going to let it affect him, he told himself that it was all work, all of it was lies that weren’t true. “Tell me who is killing the angels. I want a name.”

“You think I’ll see all your scary toys and spill my guts?” Alastair taunted with a comical tone.

“Oh, you’ll spill your guts, one way or another. I just didn’t want to ruin my shoes.” Dean responded with a lighthearted tone. You looked from the corner of your eye to see that he was standing there with his hands behind his back, almost too calm to be natural. Alastair trailed down to inspect Dean’s boots that were scuffed and had seen better days. “Now answer the question.”

“Or what? You’ll work me over? Hmm. But then, maybe you don’t want to. Maybe…” Alastair pressed on the sensitive nerves inside Dean as he broke his gaze away from the man. You didn’t flinch when you made eye contact with the demon. In a sing song voice, he taunted the man for the hell of it. “You’re a scared to.”

“We’re here, aren’t we?” You asked him.

“You couldn’t change if you wanted to, Y/N. Always been a stubborn headed woman like your mother, it hurts to see that. But Dean? Oh, no. He’s not all entirely himself. He left part of himself back in the pit.” Alastair said. His eyes drifted away from you and to the hunter standing in front of him. He stared at the man with a toothy grin from the work ahead. “Let’s see if we can get the two of you back together again, shall we?”

Dean played along for a moment with the little jabs Alastair was trying his hardest to do, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and walked over to the table, suddenly eager to get all of this started. “You’re gonna be disappointed.” Dean whispered to the demon.

"You have not disappointed me so far.” Alastair remarked, wanting to keep this game between the both of them going for long as possible. Dean ignored the comment as he went to the front of the table, overlooking the choices as you stood there, almost unsure of what to do. But your feelings were about to change from what you heard next. “Come on. You gotta want a little payback for everything I did to you—for all the pokes and prods. Hmm? No? How about for all the things I did to Y/N and your daddy?” Dean stiffened in discomfort, his hand reached away from a knife, and to the bottle of whisky to keep himself quiet. Having a reaction would mean Alastair won this battle. No matter how much Dean wanted to cut out the demon’s tongue, he would do it after the bastard gave a name. "You know, Y/N, she was always my favorite. It was always so much fun to see what got her scared and miserable. And, boy, when I got my hands on her after that sweet little night you two had together, to be able to carve up her flesh again.tell her what the man I made you into, Dean, what kind of monster you really are.”

Alastair forced the two of you to recollect on the memory, sending a bitter expression to settle on your face. You turned your head away from him so he couldn’t see your reaction. But the demon was only getting started, he knew that Dean had a spot about his family, he’d use it against the hunter over and over again until he broke down. “Let’s talk about Johnny boy, huh? I had your pop on my rack for close to a century.” Alastair rambled, his head tilted against the metal frame that he was chained onto as he ignored what Dean said. He wasn’t stalling, he was giving the ammunition he needed to make sure the both of you got the torture just right. “John Winchester—made quite a name for himself. A hundred years. And after each session, I’d make him the same offer I made you. I’d put down my blade if he picked one up.”

"Just give me the demon’s name, Alastair.” Dean ordered in a strained voice.

“But…He said, ‘nein’ each and every time. Damned if I couldn’t break him. Pulled out all the stops. But John—he was made of something unique. The stuff of heros. And then came Dean.” Alastair gotten to the part where he knew would be a perfect spot for the both of you. As the young man shrugged off his jacket and tucked it away, he stopped from what he heard next. “Mmm, Dean Winchester. I thought I was up against it again. But daddy’s little girl—he broked. He broked in thirty.“ Dean kept himself silent as he swung the bottle back again, taking a large gulp of the alcohol to calm his nerves. "Just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, huh, Dean? Surely you gotta admit…you even let Y/N down. Now she fooled me. I thought you would surely break under ten, sweetheart. And it’s a damn shame you didn’t go dark. I could have given you a sense of power that you deserved. It’s a never ending high.”

Your fingers twitched as you tried your hardest to keep yourself in control. But you couldn’t help yourself but indulge when a thought crossed your mind. You stepped next to Dean and grabbed a bowl from the other side of the table. Alastair watched with delight as you got to work. “Now, now we’re getting somewhere.” He remarked with a bit of delight. You poured at least a cup of water from the gallon jug before putting it back. As your eyes scanned the table once more, it seemed you weren’t making the demon proud. “Holy water? Come on! Grasshopper, you’re gonna have to get creative to impress me.”

“You know something, Alastair? I could still dream, even in Hell. Not to mention our last session together. And you know what I dreamt about the most?” You asked him. You grabbed what looked to be a syringe from the table and examined it for a moment, but you knew this was exactly what you wanted. You could feel your lips stretching into a smirk as you glanced over at him, knowing you were going to give him the show of a lifetime. “Thirty-five years I spent dreaming of this exact moment.” Alastair watched as you plunged the needle into the holy water and retracted up the top, sucking in as much water it would hold. After testing to see that it was filled to capacity, your eyes were drawn over to the demon as you gave the needle to Dean. “To have you trapped, like you did to me. And thanks to your big mouth, you gave me a lot to work with. Let’s see if I don’t disappoint you.”

There was something changing inside of you, a feeling you’d hadn’t touched in a long time. You watched as Dean headed forward to the demon, not even a single ounce of remorse was in his eye when he realized you weren’t scared anymore. He felt less guilty of tapping into the sadistic man that was shaped down in the pit. Both of you harvested an array of emotions that were dark and sadistic, admitting any other time would be wrong and depressing, but now—this was the perfect moment where you worked in sync for the greater good. Dean stood in front of Alastair with a smile spread on his lips, knowing the demon who’d spent so much time trying to manipulate the both of you into hating each other, were working together.

“Let’s get started.” Dean said to the demon, the smallest smirk spread across his lips. Alastair had spent countless years trying to rip the both of you apart, now it was going to be the death of him.

Dean wasted no time in plunging the needle into the demon’s skin. He knew the man living inside was long gone, so he didn’t exactly feel guilty for the punishment that Alastair was forcing himself into. Even if the person was alive, the holy water that was rushing through his veins wouldn’t hurt him, but the demon would. Alastair groaned loud as possible, his echos of pain could be heard through the entire warehouse, capturing the attention of Castiel. You continued on the torture long as Dean kept coming back after the demon denied a name with a snarky response. It was after the third time Dean decided that this wasn’t working, you needed something better. He returned back to the table and placed down the needle, your eyes trailed upward to the demon, you watched as he twitched and groaned at the burning sensation that ran through his veins.

“Let me know if you want some more.” You called to him. You stood there with your hand on your hip and a smirk that made Alastair become even more frustrated at what was going on to him. “There’s plenty left.”

“Go directly to Hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.” Alastair hissed at you. You let out a scoff from his remark as your eyes trailed over to Dean, you were eager to continue on with this. You watched as his eyes trailed around at the table, wondering what he could use next. Most knives were almost useless, but when he spotted Ruby’s demon-killing knife, he reached out and inspected it for a moment. Alastair caught sight of it and chuckled. “Oh. There’s that little pig poker. I wondered where it went. Last time I had that in my possesion, Y/N got to be my guinea pig. What a wild night that was.”

The holy water inside Alastair’s system seemed to have evaporated, leaving the both of you back to square one. He watched as Dean tightened his grip around the wooden handle, another poke into his frustration and anger. Dean walked over to the bowl of holy water and poured it directly on the knife, saturating it until it dripped. "Do you really think this is gonna fix you, Dean? Give you closure for you and Y/N? You think both of you are gonna be happy after this?” He asked the man. Dean answered by clenching his jaw and tossed him a deathly glare. The demon knew it was easier to pick up on body language to see how he was going, and as Dean stalked forward with the knife, he was getting closer. “Oh, that is sad. That’s really sad. Sad, sad.”

Alastair’s lips stretched into the faintest smile when Dean stood in front of him for just a moment, the familiar cold expression settled back across the man’s face. As the demon opened his mouth to laugh, Dean plunged the knife into his stomach, giving no warning. The man watched as the body he was torturing started to shake from the added effects of holy water and the knife. Dean pushed harder into the demon as he could feel a familiar, sickening pleasure rush through his mind. “I…carved you into a n-new animal, Dean.” Alastair whispered to the man. He spoke with a shaky tone as he worked through the pain, showing off his teeth as his entire face scrunched up in discomfort. Inhaling a deep breath, the demon spoke up again. “There is no…going back.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Dean admitted. He stood face to face with the demon, watching as the man let out the quietest noises and his body shook from the torture he was going through. For ten years he was a student to Alastair, learning what he could and practiced on countless souls to perfect his craftsmanship. Now Dean was going to show him everything he learned. And seek revenge he’d craved for months. “But now it’s my turn to carve.”

You and Dean focused on the demon was stood there and violently shook from the pain being inflicted upon his body. Neither one of you would suspect someone would be setting the both of you up for failure. Above the devil’s trap laid a rusty looking pipe, the entire room was filled with them, but this one in particular has a screw that loosened over the years, giving just the right gap. The pipe was connected to a water tank, with a knob that happened to be in visual sight from where you were standing. You could have seen it coming. Instead you examined how the demon reacted to the torture. The knob, ever so slowly, began to twist from an invisible force. Water began to rush through the pipes once more, and as Dean continued on asking questions that he didn’t get answers to, that rusty pipe—the one with that little gap—started to leak out just the tiniest amount of water and onto the devil’s trap, destroying the chalk it was drawn in.

It was a tedious process of what you presumed was the unbecoming of Alastair. You leaned against the table, after you locked down the wheels, and crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes examined Dean’s work. The man that Alastair had possessed was now reduced to a bloody mess after Dean gotten done carving wherever he presumed would be a weak point. You took notice of the weak breaths the demon managed to take in, exhausted from all the screaming and groaning he was put under. Dean didn’t seem to give an ounce of sympathy as he took his hand and wrapped it around Alastair’s chin, forcing the demon to look straight up at him.

With his lips painted a crimson color, Alastair couldn’t help himself but let out a long laughter from what he was getting out from Dean. It was the familiar look in the hunter’s eye that made him smile, showing off his bloody teeth after coughing up blood. “Well, it’s your professionalism that I respect.” He said with too casual of a tone. The demon gathered up the blood and spit that was combined in his mouth, now making it harder to talk for the moment. Dean seemed frustrated with the lack of progress he thought was coming. Throwing the demon’s head back into the wall, he stepped back and stormed over to the table, needing to find something better. Alastair opened his mouth and spit out the blood, letting it stain the floor. You grimaced at what you’d saw. “What? Afraid to get your hands dirty, Y/N?”

“You seem a little thirsty.” You made a remark, deciding to play along with the casual demeanor. You pushed yourself to your feet and headed back to the table to see if there was anything you could use. It was all about starting off small and breaking down his confidence. You poured the holy water into the cup you previously used and headed over. This time you stepped inside the devil’s trap and waited for his reaction. Alastair was silent for a long moment, as he watched your every move, it was clear enough to see the disappointment in his expression at what you chose. He started to chuckle, thinking that this was the best you could do. You stood there for a moment, your own lips stretching into a faint smile, almost playing along. When he least expected it, you splashed the water directly into his face. You watched as his skin burned and sizzled from the reaction to the holy water. “Who’s murdering the angels, Alastair?”

You didn’t get your answer right away. Instead you watched as the demon reacted violently to the cups of holy water you threw into his face. You’d gotten him to the point where his clothes were soaked through and the blood from his mouth had now trickled down to his neck. For the briefest moment you thought you were getting somewhere yourself as you let Alastair recover from the torture you put him through. You gave him a look and observed as he drew silent, making you wonder for a brief second that he was starting to crack under pressure. But a little holy water didn’t seem to affect his personality. Alastair spit out the remaining water in his mouth, missing you by barely a few inches. You could feel yourself becoming frustrated at the lack of progress.

“Just not getting deep enough.” Alastair critiqued you, seeming to think this was some kind of test. You drew away from him as your grip around the cup tightened hard as you could. How the hell he was managing to keep so calm was making your blood boil in anger. “Well, you lack the resources for one. Reality is just…too concrete up here. Loosen up, Y/N. You’re holding yourself back. Show me what you want to do. Let your inner demon loose.”

\+ + +:

"Honestly, kids. You have no idea how badly it really was, and what you really did for us.“ Alastair didn’t know when to keep himself quiet for longer than a second. You peered over your shoulder from what he was saying, Dean tried to ignore the demon best as he could, as he warned for him to shut up, he grabbed the silver canister full of salt and began to pour the contents inside a bag made out of fabric, the bottom had a small metal tip. An ominous idea started to nestle inside his head. Still as Alastair loved to do, he pressed your buttons and continued speaking. "The whole bloody thing, Dean. The reason Lilith wanted you there in the first place.”

Dean slammed the container of salt to the table and picked up the bag, nestling it his grip, he walked over to the demon to see the smug smirk on his face, like he was holding a secret from the both of you. Since Alastair wouldn’t comply to what the hunter demanded, he found a way that seemed efficient, and more importantly, painful. As Alastair continued on talking, Dean ignored what he was about to say. “Well, then I’ll just make you shut up.” He hissed at the demon with a venomous laced tone. Alastair wasn’t afraid of what the man was going to do, he returned the threat given to him with a cocky smirk.

Dean roughly grabbed the demon by the chin and forced the metal tip down his throat, making it where Alastair couldn’t fight or shut his mouth, his throat was constricted open to feel the metal scrap against his insides. The funnel forced down every gram of salt to burn his insides. Neither one of you flicked when the demon began to let out muffled screams of pain as his eyes bugged out of his skull from what was happening. When the salt was gone, Dean took out the contraption, to watch as Alastair choked on his own blood again. His body was reacting to the way the salt reacted to the wounds inflicted on his body. The demon began to choke on the mixture of blood and salt, he gagged and began to spit out whatever he could. It was having much more of an impact like you hoped, but even with his skin start to break apart and mix with the bile in his throat, it wasn’t enough for him to break down.

“S-Sorry. Something caught in my throat.” Alastair coughed out, spitting the light red content of blood and salt to the cement floors, letting the lingering substance drip down his throat and catch into his beard. He coughed out the remaining contents to the ground so he could speak properly again. “I think it’s my throat.”

“Well, strap in.” Dean whispered to the demon. “‘Cause I’m just starting to have fun.”

Dean returned the smirk he was given from Alastair with one of his own, he wasn’t going to stop until he gotten the information that was needed. He returned back to the table to find another trick to make this process go faster. You suggested with a nod of the head for the holy water to begin with. Dean grabbed the jug and began to fill the cup again to the brim. “You know, it was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on. But in the end, it was you Dean.” Alastair spoke up again, breaking the small pause of silence that fell since the both of you gotten here. Dean amused himself by asking what. He grabbed the demon knife that was caked with drying blood, he cleaned it off by pouring a bit of water onto it before reaching for the salt to drizzle a light coating over it. “Every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father. And finally you said, ‘Sign me up.’”

You could feel your fingers wrap around the edges of the table as you leaned forward, forcing every ounce of your control to keep the memory from flooding back into your mind. But it didn’t help when you pressed your eyelids shut, making you recollect on the moment Dean leaned over and got to work, saying all those hurtful things to you. No amount of pleading or screaming made him stop, it only fueled him to go farther. “Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch…” Alastair trailed off, his voice growing silent, watching with pleasure as the both of you were drawn back. His lips stretched into a smirk at what he was about to admit, a piece of information he’d been carrying for all these years. You and Dean looked over at him, the demon who was covered in blood and smiled with red stained teeth, held the powerful punch to make you tremble. “That was the first seal.”

That was the first seal. Those five words repeated themselves into your mind, slowly at first. But as your brain to recognize the danger in them, you repeated it again, only faster and louder. You could feel your breathing start to come out in shallow and quick. Dean remained calm as he could. His father taught him to never let the enemy see the fear in his eye, it would show weakness. He stood up straighter and never drew his gaze away from Alastair. Walking over to the demon, he was now facing him with a cold and almost expressionless gaze. “You’re lying.” He hissed at the man, his lips forced themselves into a smirk, hoping he was right about this. But he wasn’t.

“'And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.’” Alastair preached the words with preciseness. Dean listened to everything the demon said. His heartbeat was pounding so loud in his ears, Dean responded with a scoff and turned away. It was true true, Dean knew it was. But he reminded himself that demons lied, but Alastair wasn’t finished just yet. “We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall right. Topple the one at the front of the line. Of course…the bitch of the bunch was in the fine print. We couldn’t use just any old soul lying around. We needed someone special. Someone like you, Y/N.“

You turned around to face the demon, where he stood it seemed like you shouldn’t be shaking with fear as your eyes were glazed over. You stood there with your hands to your side and hands clenched into tight fists. You didn’t want to know the information that he was holding hostage from you. You didn’t want to know the role you played. But you couldn’t help yourself when you brang yourself to speak in a weak, but harsh, tone. "What the hell are you talking about?”

“It was always about you, Y/N. Our special golden child. You see, Sammy is important to us, but that’s a different reason. If it wasn’t for you, none of this would be possible.” Alastair was dancing around the point, you clenched your jaw as his smile grew, showing off his bloody teeth. You felt like you were going to be sick to your stomach. “’And the second seal shall crumble when the creation of Lucifer has bare witnessed to man’s immoral demise. This soul, made of human flesh and wickedness, shall be freed from the depths of Hell to walk amongst humanity. As this soul shall be the Devil’s first and only creation. The first sign of the Rapture.’”

Alastair had the audacity to let out a throaty laugh from the look on your face, the sheer panic that couldn’t be hidden anymore. He felt like a kid on Christmas morning from what he was doing to you. “Azazel worked tirelessly to find the perfect candidate. He’d spent years trying to figure out how we we’re going to make this happen. That was, until 1981, when Ella Y/L/N came strolling along, desperate to have a baby. And then twenty-eight years later…after Daddy was tired of seeing his daughter suffer, he made that deal to set you free. Everything fell right into place.”

Your brain forced yourself to inhale a deep breath, taking in a whiff of the thick smell of blood and dust that blew threw the air, making you feel even more nauseated. You quickly turned away from Alastair and focused on the wall, you tried to think of anything, but all you could feel was shame at the information that you were starting to comprehend. You pressed your eyelids shut and tried your hardest not to give into the temptation of letting a single tear fall. You kept telling yourself that this was all a tactic to make you break. But that small, obnoxious voice in your head kept whispering to you of how it made sense. Lilith allowed that second deal because you would be in Hell with Dean. Alastair spent all that time pressing Dean to hate you, not because the man did, but because he was weak enough to do the things his father couldn’t. It was all a precise plan that you were tricked into playing along since the beginning. You felt your gaze lingering away from the wall, and slowly, over to the man that stood next to you. You could see the raw fear and sadness glazed over in his green eyes when he realized the disaster he’d committed.

“Hmm. When we win…when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this earth down, we’ll owe it all to you, Dean Winchester.” Alastair spoke up again, the temptation of bringing up the facts was too good to ignore. Dean couldn’t help himself but look away in shame. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tight as he could. “Believe me, kids. I wouldn’t lie about this. It’s kind of a…” The demon felt something shift in the atmosphere, almost like a barrier was being lifted off of him. He looked around for a moment until he spotted a small puddle on the ground, the droplets of water were coming from a leaky pipe above, making the devil’s trap slowly wash away. “religious sort of thing with me.”

Dean remained silent for a few moments longer, the shock of hearing the news began to settle down, now it was the anger that was starting to take over. The adrenaline of seeing Alastair dead was the only thing he could think about. His grip around the demon knife tightened until his fist turned a ghostly white. “No. I don’t think you are lying. But even if the demons do win,” Dean looked down at the knife as he lifted it closer to inspect. The blade that was covered in Alastair’s blood and salt, it was the one thing that could kill him. “ You won’t be there to see it.”

Neither one of you realized what was going on before it was too late. Dean was too distracted professing his revenge as you stood there, trying your hardest to wrap your mind around what you heard. The room dropped to an eerily silence that lasted longer than an a few seconds. You furrowed your brow, suddenly you could feel a gnawing rush of panic, something was wrong. You turned on your heels to see what was keeping Alastair so quiet. You quickly turned around to see something that shouldn’t have been possible. Castiel promised you that Alastair was trapped down best as he could, there was no way he should be standing in front of you, barely inches from your face. You could feel your hand reaching for the cup of holy water as your instincts kicked in. But you knew you were too late on the draw.

“You should talk to your plumber about the pipes.” He said, nodding to the small puddle that was right on the floor. You didn’t have a chance to see what he mentioned, instead you felt yourself being flung through the air and roughly landing against the cement floors. Dean drew back his arm to stab the demon, but before he could, Alastair punched him with a powerful impact.

\+ + +

Alastair always had a way of getting under your skin. For thirty-five years he told you how worthless you were and the damage you’d done to the people you loved. He brainwashed Dean into thinking that all the woes of his life were your own fault. It made things easier when he was tempted after thirty years to start carving into souls and shaping them into the demons he once hunted. But it was all about manipulation. The strongest of souls would eventually break and succumb to the darkness. Alastair told you the information as he hovered over you. Your stomach pressed against the dirty cement floors as you tried your hardest to crawl away from him. Lucifer was cast down to Hell because he wouldn’t bow down to his father when he created humanity. So, like any child, he rebelled by making Lilith. He told you the tale as he worked between you and Dean, punching and beating the both of you until you were bloody just like him. Dean was somewhere in the room, barely clinging to consciousness. You somehow were still clawing at it, your sight captured on the demon knife that was was across the room. But you didn’t get very far when Alastair bent down and snatched you by the collar of your shirt, pulling you up to your feet.

You tried your hardest to fight him off, but he was stronger than you. Alastair let his frustration of being tortured for hours by throwing punches at you, not caring about what he was doing. He switched up tactics by gripping your throat, shoving you backwards to the contraption that held him hostage. His lips twitched into a vicious smirk as he pressed his index and thumb directly on the pressure points of your throat as he lifted you up from the ground. He cut off your breathing as your feet aimlessly dangled to the ground. “You’ve got a lot to learn, girl, so I’ll see you back in class, bright and early, Monday morning.” Alastair taunted at you. While you could barely see the smug grin that was spreading across his face, you caught sight of someone’s blurry figure.

You body dropped to the ground when Castiel came running forward with the knife you were so desperate to find. Finally, he figured out something was wrong, but you knew he was too late. You watched with hooded eyes as Alastair was stopped from the wound inflicted upon him. But it had done nothing like before. “Oh, almost. Looks like God is on my side today.” Alastair remarked with a confident smirk, but Cas wasn’t finished with him just yet. The angel reached up a hand to start twisting the knife, inflicting more pain upon the demon. Alastair grunted at the sensation that was running through his body, all though it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. With all the strength in his body, the demon reached up a hand to grip ahold of the knife, and ever so slowly, rip the blade out from his body. He huffed out a breath and threw the knife to the ground, making a clattering noise, all before he was drawing his gaze to Castiel.

Alastair charged forward and attacked. You couldn’t see much of what was going on, all you could make out were the echos of punches and grunts of pain. Your entire body felt like someone threw you off a building and left to die. You could feel tears beginning to prick your eyes from the wounds and aching muscles that screamed when you tried to move. You looked over to see that Cas wasn’t winning this fight, now pinned against the wall, Alastair had the upperhand here.

“You know, like roaches, you celestials. I really wish I knew how to kill you. But all I can do is send you back to Heaven.” Alastair remarked. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was better than nothing. True to his word, the demon began to speak words of Latin that you’d never heard before. There was almost nothing that could keep the demon from getting what he wanted. Except for someone he forgotten. Alastair had been so caught up in his task of ridding Castiel from earth, he was taken by surprise when something threw him against the wall. He looked forward to see the infamous Sam Winchester back at it again. “Stupid pet tricks.”

Sam’s patience had been running thin all night. Between you and his brother being dragged away from him without notice, he wasn’t in the mood to hear Alastair’s petty jabs. He had the demon pinned against the wall, and as much as he pretended it didn’t hurt, Sam knew he was doing something to inflict pain that would make him talk. He was stronger than ever. "Who’s murdering the angels?” Sam questioned the demon. “How are they doing it?”

“You think I’m gonna tell you?” Alastair chuckled out.

“Yeah, I do.” Sam hissed at the demon. The hand that was drawn out to keep the demon against the wall clenched into a fist, starting the process of exorcising Alastair. The demon began to choke when he felt the smoke inside his body being ripped apart by an invisible force, Sam watched as his eyes flickered to the milky white color. “How are the demons killing angels?!”

Alastair tried answering the question as he was being choked. Sam didn’t make the process go fast, instead he went dreadfully slow, making the demon feel a pain that was nothing he’d experienced in his time as a demon. It was like an exorcism, the process tediously slow and painful. “I don’t know!” Alastair claimed, trying his hardest to speak between small gasp of air. “It’s not us! We’re…not doing it!”

“I don’t believe you.” Sam argued with the demon, pressing for more.

“Lilith is not behind this! She wouldn’t kill seven angels. She’d kill a hundred. A thousand.” Alastair admitted with a grin. The demon all of them knew was ruthless for power and blood. Sam knew this was the same demon who wore you like a puppet and forced you to watch as hellhounds rip apart Dean. She wouldn’t stop at a few angels. She would massacre many as she could. “Oh, go ahead. Send me back…if you can.”

“I’m stronger than that now.” Sam admitted with a smirk. “Now I can kill.”

Sam’s veins were pumping with a heavy dose of demon blood, more than he’d gotten before. He was sure that this would work, Ruby promised after she offered him much as she could. And there was no way Sam was going to leave this room without seeing Alastair dead. He could feel the end of his lips stretching into a smirk as he pressed forward, somehow crushing the demon, evidence that something was going right from how loud he grunted and screamed from the pain. Sam didn’t stop as he went on until the blood end. He watched as Alastair let out his final scream of pain as his eyes were drawn wide as possible, leaving a fearful glaze over his eye as his body dropped to the ground. Sam let out a breath from the strenuous effort he put himself through. All though the man thought he’d done what was needed, the look on Castiel’s face when he watched what he’d done told a different story.

If it were another day, Sam might have cared what the angel thought about what he’d just done. But his gaze lingered over to the two bodies that laid on the floor, needing his attention. Sam knew this was the outcome he was dreading to see. He crouched down to the ground to be at level with his big brother first. He lightly tapped Dean on the face a few times after he realized the man still had a pulse. After a few moments, the man drew in a breath of air, slowly coming back to consciousness. Sam headed over to you when he realized that Dean was alive. He leaned over your body and pressed two fingers against the crook of your neck, it took a moment before heard a faint and very weak heartbeat. Sam tried his hardest to get you awake as he called out your name in a quiet tone, but no matter what, you laid there. He swallowed in nervousness as he looked up to see if Castiel was there to help. Of course, the angel was nowhere to be seen.

\+ + +

Dean Winchester could describe himself in a lot of different ways. He was a people person—who was also terrible at commitment by the string of women he’d used and lost over the years. But he found a safe haven with you. Over the past few months he’d been trying to work out a system with you to somehow make this work between hunting and the very rare times when the world seemed at peace. He cherished every moment he could act like a couple with the woman he’d loved, the same one who he vowed to protect from harm. He was also bitterly reminded that he was the one who hurt you in ways that plagued your mind with nightmares since returning back from Hell. And in that moment he remembered what Alastair had told him. He kicked started the apocalypse, he broke the first seal. And how many angels can dance on the head of a pin? Dean was tempted into believing that Alastair was lying just for the hell of it, to mess with his head. But he knew it made too much sense to brush it off as that. The more he thought about it, the better it distracted him from what was happening right in front of his eyes.

The doctors said he’d had a mild concussion and severe bruising around his body. “It would be best if you’d stayed in bed. We’ll update you on her status if we see improvement.” His brother also thought it would be best to rest. But Dean wasn’t going to listen to the doctor’s orders. He was sick and tired of listening to what people told him to do. He was still in the clothes one of the nurses provided for him for his own were filthy and caked in blood. And he sat in the same uncomfortable chair right for the past several hours. Dean leaned forward and reached out his hand to place it on the bed, his fingers ever so lightly wrapped around your hand and brushed against the tape which held down the IV. He hoped that you would squeeze his hand, a little reaction to make him know you were okay.

But you remained the same after three hours; eyes closed, like you were peacefully sleeping, combined with a breathing tube that was taped around your mouth and wires on your temple to monitor your brain activity to see the severity of the damage. Dean examined the bruises that were painted around your face and the fingertip bruises around your neck. The doctor said that you sustained severe trauma to the head. Not much could be explained this early, so you were put under a medically induced coma for the pain and complications you might face if awake. It also was until they figured out the extent of your injuries. Maybe the doctor would figure it out tonight—or three days from now. All that really Dean knew was that it was his fault.

Sam was around here, getting coffee for the two of them as they waited. He was positive that you would make it out alive, you always did. Sam sat across from him and admitted something that he’d kept to himself for years when this situation felt a little deja vu to him. It was right after the car accident with their father. Somehow he was the only one who remained conscious. And for some reason, despite the chaos around him, Sam swore you weren’t breathing when all of you were still in the car, waiting for the paramedics to arrive. He thought it was his brain into thinking the worst case scenario. Until he got to the hospital and overheard a few whispers. Nurses mumbling that you should have been dead from the internal injuries from the crash alone, or reduced into a comatose state like Dean. Somehow a few hours later you were taken out of the ICU, it was a waiting game until who could wake up first. Of course, you won. While the man was happy to see you alive and well, he had to admit your reaction wasn’t what he was expecting.

Dean listened to his brother as he explained that you woke up in a panic, suddenly wanting him, mumbling that you were alive and how it was a mistake. But considering what Sam knew, he had a theory you’d been on the edge of death, where you’d seen Dean and the reaper, Tessa. In other words of encouragement that Sam was trying to get across, you were going to be okay in the next few hours. Dean should have nothing to worry about. You’d bounce back from this like nothing happened. Sam acted like you were going to wake up, and all of you were going to have a big laugh about this. After all, death doesn’t stick around to all of you for very long.

Dean let out a heavy breath as he glanced away from your sleeping face and to the front door of the hospital room when he noticed a tall figure lingering in the doorway. Suspecting that his brother was back with the coffee he promised, Dean was taken by surprise when he saw someone that dragged them into this mess in the first place. Castiel awkwardly stood in the doorway, never saying a word, he examined you in the hospital bed for a moment before glancing over at Dean. The angel nodded his head to the empty hall where the two of them could speak in private. Dean pushed himself to his feet, despite the pain that he was in, and followed behind. He scanned the empty hallway for a moment before he spotted Castiel waiting for him a few yards away from the room. As the man opened his mouth to explain, Dean didn’t want to listen to some half-assed explanation of what went wrong. He wanted the angel to feel what you and him went through to show upset he was.

Before Dean realized what he was doing, he was charging forward, he grabbed a fistful of the angel’s dress shirt and roughly threw him against the wall. He wanted to hurt Castiel. Dean wanted to hurt him in ways that didn’t cross his mind when he was locked away with Alastair. “Get in there and heal her.” Dean hissed at the angel. He violently shook the man in his grip, despite the pain he felt, he wanted to do worse. Sam came back before Dean could keep to his promise, as he was being pulled away from Cas, the angel had the audacity to say that he couldn’t. It would go against his orders. “Screw your freaking orders. Miracle—now! You and Uriel put her in here like that! Because you can’t keep a damn devil’s trap together.”

“I don’t know what happened. That trap,” Castiel tried his hardest to explain what went wrong, but there was no excuse. He put the entire thing together, it should have been a fool proof plan. But it seemed there was something he overlooked. He stopped himself when he realized there was no answer that would be good enough to make this situation better. He let out a sigh and glanced away for a moment. “It shouldn’t have broken. I am sorry.”

“This whole thing was pointless. You understand that? The demons aren’t doing the hits.” Sam said. Castiel looked over at the man when he heard him speak. Both of them had witnessed what Alastair had admitted, but the angel looked at him with a skeptical glint in his eye. “Something else is killing your soldiers.”

“Perhaps Alastair was lying.” Castiel speculated.

“No.” Sam argued with the man. “He wasn’t.”

What Sam had done to the demon was powerful, and it sure beat whatever Alastair had done in Hell to the amount of souls he tortured. The argument gave Castiel something to think about as the brothers left him there, his thoughts clouded with scenarios. Sam let out a sigh of his own and grabbed the warm paper cup he set down on the table after briefly checking up on you before he found where his brother went. Dean decided that you weren’t going to be changing anytime soon, and getting some sleep did sound nice. A nurse working the graveyard shift stepped inside the room with a small metal table, she gave the men a polite smile, mentioning something about checking your vitals and giving another dose of morphine. Dean brushed it off as nothing, he grumbled something about keeping him updated, the nurse smiled and nodded her head, watching as the man traveled back into the hallway before disappearing from sight.

Sam waited a few seconds before he set down his cup of coffee again. He walked over to the hospital room door and scanned the hallway, the entire place was abandoned for the moment, when he knew that they were alone, he closed the door and turned back around to the nurse. She stood there with the the table sheet ripped off from the medical table she carried in here. Sam could feel a sigh fall from his lips when he stared at the demon blood that was concealed in a syringe. In the back of his mind, he knew that you would rather die than get another dose of demon blood into your system, which was conveniently concealed in a clean syringe. Sam knew that it was making him stronger, that’s how he was able to take on Alastair with a winning chance, him and the demon presumed it could help you heal yourself, too.

The word stop lingered at the tip of his tongue. He knew that if Dean found out, the man would kill him with his bare hands without a single shred of remorse. But Sam wasn’t doing it to hurt anyone, Ruby promised him that you would get better because of this. Ruby cleared her throat, bringing him back into reality of the situation. She cocked up the nurse’s brow. He was taught his entire life that demons shouldn’t be trusted. But Ruby hadn’t given him a reason to distrust her. So, Sam nodded his head for the demon to continue on what she was doing. She picked up the needle that was filled with what Sam presumed was her own blood and took off the protective cap before tossing it carelessly to the small table. Dean wouldn’t have to know, nobody would. Sam watched as Ruby inserted the needle into your skin, pumping your veins with another dose of demon blood.

\+ + +

You didn’t wake up until the next night and unsure of what was going on around you. Your entire body felt strange. You felt like you were dead weight, yet, at the same time, like you were floating, lost in a dizzy spell. For a moment your eyes looked around the room to see that everything was shades of whites and beiges that seemed like calm colors. You could feel your nose wrinkle slightly when you felt something plastic tickle the insides of your nostrils, you realize that you were being given air from an oxygen tank. As you reached up your left hand to take out whatever it was, you stopped when you noticed a piece of gauze on the top of your hand, making your eyes wander to where the small tube was connected to. You felt no pain when you cranked your head upwards to see that you were connected to an IV. It took a few seconds before you realized you were in a hospital. You leaned back in the pillows when you tried to figure out what was going on.

All you could remember was getting back from Pamela’s funeral after traveling for most of the day. You remembered the crappy motel you weren’t happy to be staying in. You wanted to just be by yourself for a few hours and get a decent night’s sleep. But then you started to remember the visit from Castiel and Uriel. They were there to discuss something about someone dying and demons. But you remembered one thing clearly, Alastair. You couldn’t shake off the memories of you being so angry and frustrated with him. He just kept talking about things that didn’t make sense. And if you were right, he mentioned something about a seal. “Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch…That was the first seal.“ You could hear the exact words repeat themselves like an echo in your mind. Dean broke the first seal. Then you remembered what happened after you heard the information. He got loose. And said all those things that made your stomach twist into knots. What if that was true?

"Are you alright?” You didn’t realize you had company in the room until you heard a gravelly voice speak, breaking your attention away from the wall that you were staring at. You cranked your sore neck ever so slowly to the right side to see that there was a familiar face sitting in the hospital chair the Winchesters had been occupying for hours before. But the brothers were nowhere to be seen, instead your guest was Castiel. You weren’t sure how long he’d been sitting there next to you, just staring at the wall and keeping you company. You were rather annoyed of the question he asked you. On the other hand, you was thankful for his company during this strange time.

“No thanks to you.” You mumbled to the angel. You heard footsteps starting to approach the open door, making you curious to see who was going to be your next visitor. You forced yourself to look, even slow as you could move, just to see who it was. Dean headed inside your hospital room with a paper cup and dressed like he’d been dragged to Hell and back. From his face that was discolored with bruises and clothes that were wrinkled, you were still grateful to see him. He gave you a weak smile, relief flooded into his features as he approached your bed. You noticed that he didn’t say anything to Cas, making you wonder if the both of them had been here for a while. You had just woken up, but you were somehow still extremely tired. You tried your hardest to keep your eyelids open, but all you wanted to do was sleep. Sleep away the pain.

“The both of you need to be more careful.” Castiel’s warning took you by surprise.

“You need to learn how to manage a damn devil’s trap.” You whispered to him. “Here’s a tip, don’t draw one in chalk that can be washed away.”

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N. Uriel is dead.” Castiel’s information stopped you from closing your eyes, making you remember why they wanted you in the first place. They suspected someone like Lilith had gotten ahold of a way to kill their fellow siblings for the hell of it. Dean pulled up another chair and sat right across from you, he asked if it was the demons who were to blame. “It was disobedience. He was working against us.”

You leaned your head against the soft pillow and found yourself finally giving into the temptation of unconsciousness. You didn’t want to hear about anything right now or think about the end. “It’s all my fault.” You found yourself admitting, the dose of morphine the nurse had given to you a half n’ hour ago was kicking into your system. Most of your thoughts were being clumped together in one hazy projection in your mind. You were stressed and full of worry about what the future meant. But you couldn’t bring yourself to think about that anymore when you felt your eyelids starting to grow heavy again. All you wanted to do was sleep again. Sleep away the pain from everything that happened and what would come.

Dean shifted his gaze to see that you were resting again. But it seemed that you could sense his worry. You reached out a hand to entwine his fingers with yours, giving it a rough squeeze to let him know you were okay. You could feel yourself drifting again, the conversation in the room came to a halt, leaving a comfortable silence around the three of you. Dean watched as your head nodded around a bit before your grip around his hand softened. He swallowed in nervousness as his shift over to Cas when he knew you couldn’t hear what he was itching to discuss.

“Is it true?” He asked the dreaded question that had been on his mind for hours. The angel looked over at him, wondering what he meant by that. “Did I break the first seal? Did I start all this?”

“Yes.” Castiel answered with the information that Dean was expecting to hear. But even after all this time of allowing him to think about it over and over again, he could feel himself becoming numb with pain at the thought of what he’d done. His eyes drifted away from the angel as he focused his attention on the patterns in the duvet. “When we discovered Lilith’s plan for you, we laid siege to Hell, and we fought our way to get to you before you—”

"Jump-started the apocalypse.” Dean finished for him in a quiet voice.

Castiel could see the man was ridden with guilt from the heavy information that was being given to him. And considering the circumstance he was put through, the angel looked away and stared at the ceiling, trying his hardest not to feel anything. “But we were too late.”

“Why didn’t you just leave me there, then?” Dean questioned him.

“It’s not the blame that falls on you, Dean. It’s the same for why Y/N was born. It’s fate.” Castiel said. But the man couldn’t help himself when his bottom lip started to quiver. He wasn’t supposed to be the evil that he hunted and be a monster that hurt the people he loved. He looked upward to your sleeping face. The reason why you landed yourself in Hell was because you made the deal to get his ass out of the fire. You’d done nothing to protect him, and look at how Dean repaid you. The man realized that his actions against you were more full of more consequences than he could ever imagine. But he was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard Cas speak again. “And the righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. You have to stop it.”

"Lucifer? The apocalypse? What does that mean?” Dean asked the angel. All he gotten in return was a stare from Castiel, who was unsure how to respond. Dean watched as he turned away, making him fearful that he would abandon him just like that. “Hey! Don’t you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bull!”

“I don’t.” Castiel admitted. He glanced over at the man, urging him that he was telling the truth. He wouldn’t lie about something like this. The subject was too sensitive, so much was at stake. And he knew lying wasn’t good. “Dean, they don’t tell me much. I know…how our fate rests with you.”

“Well, then, you guys are screwed. I can’t do it, Cas. It’s too big. I mean Alastair was right. I’m not all here. I’m not–I’m not strong enough.” Dean said. He hoped admitting the truth that he was a broken man would have been enough to get him out of this. All he wanted to do was crawl away. In that moment he longed for all his old problems to come back. To be back on the open road with you and his brother, arguing about if their father was still alive, or hunting down the yellowed eyed demon. Dean could feel a tear roll down his cheek, the emotion getting the best of him. “Well, I guess I’m not the man either of our dads wanted me to be. Just…find someone else. It’s not me.”

Dean always tried to be one of the good guys, a flawed one at best, but he always tried to do his best with how he was raised. He thought the biggest challenges he faced in life was hunting down Azazel and getting himself out of the deal before it was too late. But this, this was too much for him. Suddenly, in that moment, he ached to have his mother in this room so she could hold him in her arms like how he barely remembered. He wanted to have his father tell him that everything was going to be okay. Or tell him that nothing was too scary, like how John did when he was much younger and faced a terrible hunt by accident. Dean tried reminding himself that he wasn’t alone for this adventure. He had his little brother, you and Bobby. But none of you were here right now. Dean could feel his eyes starting to well up again, he wished you would squeeze his hand and give him that warm smile when he was upset. But when he looked over at you, he saw that you remained asleep, happily ignorant to the conversation in which progressed.


	17. It's a Terrible Life.

Monday mornings were your own personal hell after a weekend. You slipped a hand out from your warm comforter and tried your hardest to remember when you last left your alarm clock that was shrieking at this ungodly hour. You hand clumsily felt around your nightstand, accidentally knocking over a book you were reading before bed the night before and an empty glass of water, all went crashing to the carpet, disturbing your downstairs neighbors, and the pesky feline hiding underneath your bed that had been whining for food since five this morning. You let out a sigh when you felt something jump onto your bed and crawl toward you until she was sitting on your chest. 

You propped open an eyelid to see Luna perched up on your chest, greeting you good morning at six a.m like always, you couldn’t help yourself but smile and pet her black fur, a finger traced the faint patch of white just underneath her chest. You had Luna for a little over three weeks now after your neighbor from down the hall talked you into giving her a home after her new boyfriend that recently moved in was allergic. You visited her quite frequently to become attached to the cat, so when she offered, you graciously accepted.

Luna let out a pitiful meow, her head brushing against your hand, giving you yet another sign she was hungry. You rolled your eyes as you watched her jump from the bed and scurry out of the room to the kitchen, prompting your typical morning routine before heading for work. You pushed the sheets off your body and swing your legs off the bed, wondering if you’re going to make it to the office earlier than your boss. You doubt you were going to beat him. He was often in there before most of the other coworkers showed up, even you, and still working hard as he was this morning when you retired at five. You didn’t know much about him, but you knew for certain that his life was his career, and he was single from the lack of a wedding ring on his left hand and any sort of pictures in his office. A few of his colleagues always made a joke that he was married to his career after he denied going out after work for a few drinks with a few other coworkers, so you took his spot for him, leaving the man to finish the small details of a report that was due later today.

Work, work, work. At least he keeps me busy. You thought to yourself as you put on a pot of coffee to battle the fatigue you were feeling after waking up this morning. As the coffee brews, your apartment smells heavenly, promoting you to treat yourself to take a hot shower to start off your morning on the right foot and save yourself a few bucks so you don’t stop at the coffee shop on your way to work.

By fifteen minutes to seven you’re dressed in your combination of sensible heels paired with a new dress you bought while window shopping with a few friends Saturday afternoon after having brunch to catch up. You stand in the middle of your kitchen with your bag stuffed with all the files your boss asked for on Friday and your steaming hot cup of coffee in your hand, the other hold your car keys. You take a step to head out the door, but you stop yourself when a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach, like something is off.

You eyes cautiously scan your one bedroom apartment that suddenly feels like you just stepped into a stranger’s home. You seem to forget about how you spent weeks searching for the right place to call home after moving here just a few months ago for a fresh start. Your furniture that you spent days meticulously picking out from little shops around the city doesn’t seem comforting like it always does. And the breathtaking view from ten stories about you sends a rush of panic for a second, like you’re suddenly afraid of heights. You think for just a fraction of a second that something is wrong here, like you don’t belong, a foreigner in your own skin.

Luna jumped on the kitchen counter, landing on it with a quiet thud, her black fur against the white marble makes your eyes jump back down to her, pulling you out of your thoughts that disappear. It takes a second before you forget the feeling all together. Her paw reaches for the sunglasses she was trying to play with, making it clank against the marble. Your lips stretched into a smile when you remember what you needed before you could finally head out the front door. Before you leave, you make sure to give Luna one last stroke and mumble a goodbye, knowing well enough she was going to be in the same spot when you came home hours later, impatiently waiting for dinner. It was no wonder why you didn’t need a companion, she kept most of your time busy for someone else.

You stepped out into the hallway of your apartment to be greeted by the familiar neighbors with their good mornings and polite smiles. You lock your door and turn around to see Mrs. Garrett standing in the doorway of her own apartment, you peek inside to see that she had the TV blasting to hear morning news and the faint whistling of her kettle from the kitchen. You feel a rush of relief when you see her nurse, Bella, give you a polite wave after you made sure she wasn’t alone this morning. Mrs. Garrett was the oldest living tennet here, she had refused to leave her home for retirement. So her kids compromised on a full time nurse that would keep her company a few times a week. Next week would be her eighty-sixth birthday and from the looks of it, she was still going strong. Your lips stretch into a smile when Mrs. Garrett says hello, and not a second later, she treats you like her own grandchild from the compliments they turn quickly into a word of advice all in the same breath.

“On, don’t you look so pretty, dear! You off to work, are you?” Mrs. Garrett shakes her head when you answer her as you grab the morning paper for her so she won’t hurt herself. “Come home at a decent hour and let me cook a decent meal for you. Don’t let your boss work to the bone.”

You tell her you’ll try your hardest, but you think for a moment about how nice it might be to not come home and eat another frozen dinner. You give her one last goodbye before you are off, traveling down to the parking lot to the car that was your most prized possession, a mint conditioned 1967 black Chevy Impala. It was a graduation gift from college a few years back from an old family friend. You known John and Mary Winchester since you were born, and since they didn’t have kids of their own, they acted like a second pair of parents to your own. John had given it to you as a gift, admitting that he was waiting for a day where he could pass it down to his child one day. But since it was never going to happen, you graciously accepted the car which had been apart of your childhood for long as you could remember.

You hopped inside Baby and turned on the engine, letting her purr to life, you fumbled around with the radio as you sipped on your coffee now that it was cooled down enough to enjoy. When you notice a classic rock song come on, your lips stretched into a smile and crank it up, at the memory that stemmed back to your childhood, riding in the backseat as John and your father sat in front with all the windows rolled down to enjoy the country summer days. Pushing your sunglasses down to block out the morning sun, you listen to the music and drive to another long day at the office.

\+ + +

You quietly stand in the left corner of the elevator and sip on your coffee, watching as the numbers start to creep upwards to the building level where you report to work at seven-thirty this very morning. Most of your co workers of Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc. keep quiet, some are eyeing the Wall Street Journal, their neutral faces mask the panic they are feeling when reading about the recession that’s unfolding as some stare blankly at the wall. You heard rumors of people being laid off left and right from big companies that weren’t fortunate enough bailed out from the government. The company seemed to have been having a well enough quarter for people to breathe a little easier.

You weren’t worried about the faulty job market at the moment. Despite your college degree that was collecting dust, you landed a secretary job at the company when you moved here to start over. It wasn’t that your life back home was terrible. You just needed a change from the familiar faces and have a bit of an adventure before settling down for good so your mother could stop bugging you about why you weren’t married yet. So far you had gotten a cat for companionship. That was a start. Right?

When you reach floor twenty-two, the elevator door rings, prompting everyone to step out into the busy halls where bodies are settling into the routine of tossing off papers so they don’t miss a deadline and grabbing a light breakfast from the cafeteria downstairs. You make your way to the familiar path that directs you to your small corner office, as you walk, you smile at a few faces that you recognize before finding your desk exactly as how you left it Friday afternoon at five thirty. You set down your bag and reach over to boot up your desktop computer. As you see the screen come to life, you look over your shoulder to see your boss has his door parted open halfway, your eyes linger down to read the silver plaque that announces his promotion given to him less than a month ago.

“Dean Smith  
Director, Sales & Marketing.”

Echos of a familiar laugh makes you realize Dean had, yet again, beat you to the office. You scan the desk to see there’s already a small pile of paperwork that needs his attention and some things that you need to photocopy for filing later this morning. Scooping up the documents, you leave your computer to the company screen as you quietly step to the doorway of the office to see if you could greet him this morning. You see that Mr. Smith is leaning against the front of his desk and carrying on a conversation to his coworker Mark, who works down the hall in advertisement. It takes a soft knock on the door to break the men away from their conversation, Dean summons you into the room with a wave of his index finger after he catches sight of what you’re holding.

Dean Smith takes everything in his life seriously, from what he puts in his mouth to how he dresses for another today of success. You take notice of his suit today; it’s a navy blue that is paired with a blue striped shirt and white collar and cuffs. He added with a crimson red tie that adds a pop of color. Your eyes trail down to the shiny black leather oxfords that look brand new. Dean’s hair is perfectly groomed, too, parted down in the middle, no stray of his sandy blonde hair is out of place. You notice that he’s clean shaven, too. Everything about him screams success. You always feel the slightest bit intimidated around him, afraid you’re going to give him the wrong piece of paper or accidentally fumble out your words like a teenager. You grip the papers closer to your chest when he looks away from Mark again to give his attention, you can feel your stomach flutter when he smiles.

“Good morning, Ms. Singer.” Dean greets you by the dreaded last name as he politely nods.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith.” You reply with a smile as you stepped closer to him. You greet him by handing over the thick packet papers that had been weighing down your arms. Mark takes notice of the pile and whistles, making a remark of how he’s happy about of not having Dean’s job. But it seems Dean rather content as he started flipping through the document to see what he’s up against for today. When you speak, his green eyes flicker upward. “Mr. Adler would like that on his desk by this afternoon. You’ve got a meeting with Susan from accounting at nine when she gets in. And don’t forget the conference call at three.”

Dean skims over the information for a brief moment and lifts up a few of the papers, leaving you to silently stand there, unsure if you are needed anymore. You silently stand there with your hands to your side, your eyes trail over to Mark when he speaks up, breaking the moment of silence. “I gotta tell you, Dean. You’re one lucky bastard sneaking this one.” Mark shoves his hands inside his pants pockets and laughs, you could feel a tint of color wash over your cheeks when he gives you a wink. “Pretty as hell and she keeps up with your grueling task. Tell me, sweetheart, when you ever get sick of him, I’m just down the hall.”

You could feel a smile tug at the ends of your lips, but to be discreet and professional, you look down at your heels, making sure there is no invisible dirt on the tips after traveling from the parking garage. Dean glances up to see what’s going on, and for a brief second, he furrows his brow in anger, for whatever reason that would be. “You can go now, Ms. Singer.” He said, prompting you to snap your head up and look at him. His expression changes as he gives you a smile, he nods head to the door so you can start your day. “Thank you.”

You give him a small smile and return to your desk, leaving both men to discuss whatever it was before you take a seat in your rather comfortable office chair. You keep yourself busy for a few moments by shuffling around a few papers to their proper places before you go to your computer, pulling up your email to see what needed your attention. A few minutes later you see Mark leave, you look up from your work to make eye contact with him, he gave you a smile, prompting you to return as he mumbled a soft goodbye. You let out a breath and shake your head with an amused smile stretching across your lips from your exchange. You know well enough Mark was a nice guy, but a huge flirt with just about anyone who looked in his direction. As you pull up an email from Mr. Adler’s personal secretary, you are taken away from the task you feel a pair of eyes lingering, you look over to see that Dean is standing in the doorway, the same unsettled look came across his face. You pull the man out of this thoughts by asking if he needed you for anything.

“What? Oh, no. I’m fine, thank you.” Dean manages to keep himself composed in a normal manner. You watch him smooth out his tie as his green eyes takes just a brief second to notice the new dress you’d bought over the weekend. Dean doesn’t flirt with his co workers. He seems to have fallen for his career, knowing there was too much to accomplish. But he can’t help himself to admit that you look rather stunning, well, you always did to him since you were hired three weeks ago. He thinks for a moment that you seem familiar, the feeling bugs him like a persistent nag. Before he could discuss it, Dean cleared his throat, the thought disappears quickly as it was created, and gives you another nod of his appreciation. “Keep up the good work, Ms. Singer.”

“Y/N.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can call me, Y/N. Ms. Singer makes me feel like my mother.” You correct him again, a small smile spreading across your lips when you caught him off guard from the informal title your boss wasn’t used to speaking. “But it’s whatever you feel comfortable with, sir.”

Dean seemed a bit hesitant, but he nods his head, making a mental note of it before he stepped back into his office, leaving the both of you to fall into the usual routine. You put forth your attention to the growing amount of emails that are calling for your attention about scheduling a future project into Dean’s busy work schedule. Every so often you sneak glances away from the computer screen and pretend to shuffle around papers you think have jumped out of place, when in reality it’s so you can shamelessly sneak glances at your boss, who is too oblivious to the world around him when he put his bluetooth in and started speaking to clients. You let out a quiet sigh and begin to write out the email once more before hitting send.

\+ + +

The rest of the day passes; you photocopy papers, organize the week, make small talk in the break room when you fetch a cup of coffee for you and a soy latte for your boss and file papers into you feel like you’re about to go cross eyed. When noon rolls around, Dean gives you his platinum card and asks to fetch him an all vegan salad from the deli he mentioned liking so much last week. You joined him at having a light meal at your desk, today’s workload seems never ending. Hours pass, your feet were starting to ache from all the running around you had done and introduced clients for a meeting with Dean. There’s an unsettling cramp that settled into your wrist from all the typing you’d been doing, and while your eyelids are starting to grow heavy, you make yourself stay for the last line you do before you finally hit send. You lean back in your seat and glance at the clock, your eyebrows rise to see that it’s going on six-thirty. It was later than you normally stayed.

You let out a yawn as you look around at the empty floor to see that most of the offices around you are pitch black, everyone snuck out an hour ago. But when you look to peek inside Dean’s office, he’s still diligently working. You know he’s probably going to be here for another hour, but all you want to do is go home, hopeful Mrs. Garrett kept to her promise of that warm dinner. You power off your computer and pack up your bag, filling it up with the planner and other belongings you brought from home. As you snatch up your car keys and grab your jacket from the back of your chair, you look up with surprise to see that Dean is following in your actions. He shut off the lights to his office and closes the door, as he turned around to leave after locking it, you give him a smile when you catch him off guard.

“Heading home before seven?” You ask, deciding to be bold enough by striking up a conversation.

“I am. They’ll be plenty to do tomorrow…Y/N.” He mentally corrected himself when he remembers that you don’t like being formal. Your name feels good, almost natural on his tongue, like he’d said it a thousand times before in his lifetime. You could feel your smile grow a little bit bigger at the gratification of knowing your boss, who had been whispered into being a pain to work for, slowly start easing up, around you at least. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Normally you’re out by five.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Guess you’re wearing off on me, Mr. Smith.”

“Dean.” Your boss corrects you, giving you a smile that makes your knees go weak, as in the same way he shows off those pearly whites he gets cleaned every first of the month. You make a mental note of making an appointment for next week with his dentist. “Office hours are over. We don’t need to be so formal.”

You bit the inside of your cheek when he gestures an arm for you to step in front of him like a gentleman, letting you make the way back to the elevator. You keep to yourself as Dean trailed behind, his focus kept on his Blackberry as he started scrolling through his email to see what else he could work on at home. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence as you shift your gaze to the company wall that proudly declares the history and its motto. A second later the doors open, you step inside first, Dean follows as he looks up from the screen so he doesn’t accidentally run into you. You take your corner in the elevator and stare at a spot on the wall, your boss continues to aimlessly at his emails that don’t seem to end. The doors close and the automatic voice declares you are going down.

You shift around your weight on your feet when you feel the ache in your legs begin to grow uncomfortably and shake your head to move a piece of hair that fell into your face. As your gaze shifted away from the wall, you notice there is someone else in the elevator with you and Dean. Your eyes shift all the way upwards to take a good look at the man; he’s tall, shaggy brown hair that looks like it could use a good cut. You notice that he’s from the call center that’s directed on the floor below you from his yellow polo shirt. He stays silent for a moment, making you thankful he’s not one of those people who try to ruin the calm, but you speak too soon.“Do I know you?” His question makes you look over at him, your fingers tighten around the handle of your bag when he was staring at you and Dean with a tightly furrowed brow.

Dean broke his concentration away from his email to see that the stranger is staring at the both of you. “I don’t think so.” He answers. It seemed that would be the end of the conversation when you go back to your thoughts as Dean to responding an email that was marked as urgent. You look back at the man when you hear him scoff underneath his breath, you want to roll your eyes when you notice his gaze has lingered back on you again. But your parents raised you to be polite, so you blankly stare back at him, hoping he would get the hint you had no idea who he was. But he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry.” The stranger apologizes. “You two just look really familiar.”

Dean doesn’t seem to mind being a little bit rude, he pushes the button for the next floor, letting the elevator ride cut short. Saved by the bell, the doors open and announces the level that is just one away from the parking garage this is for office employees only, yourself included. “Save it for the health club, pal.” Dean remarked underneath his breath, prompting you to snicker to yourself.

You leave the stranger in the elevator as you step out into the quiet floor that is free from any other souls besides you and Dean. You adjust the strap of your bag and look at the stranger one more time, you think for a moment that he does seem familiar, but you can’t exactly put a finger on why. When the doors close behind him to go down, the feeling vanishes, blaming it on seeing his face around the building. You direct your attention to your boss, who is wishing you a good night, leaving you stranded to find your own way out of here after he decided to take the stairs. Letting out a quiet sigh, you walk back to the elevator and push for the lobby floor. Only four more days to go before the weekend, you think to yourself.

\+ + +

Run. That’s all your mind kept repeating as you tried your hardest to keep your heavy huffs of breaths to a quiet rhythm so that nobody would hear you, whoever was chasing you. You frantically looked around at your darkened surroundings to see if there was another small place you could hide. In the middle of the night, everyone in the quiet plaza you somehow remembered from a distant memory of the earlier today stuck out in your head, but you were unsure of why you were here again when everyone had gone home hours later. You turned a sharp corner and continued to find a safe haven, silently praying you wouldn’t stumble upon another alley, knowing how terrible the previous attempt ended up. You dug your heels into the cobble stone so you wouldn’t slip and accidentally make yourself trip and forced your lungs to take in a deep breath as another sprint of adrenaline rushed through your body, pushing yourself forward so your attacker wouldn’t find you easily as he did before.  
You could only hope the monster chasing you, with his sharpened canine teeth as his upper lip snarled and blood red cape, rambling on about you being his reincarnated wife, would have been distracted by a shadow he presumed to have been you. You cautiously looked over your shoulder for the a split second to see if he was around. But all you could see was an empty scenery that made a sense of motivation to keep running faster, thinking that you were almost in the clear. You swear the slightest smirk spread across your lips in satisfaction as you snapped your head forward to see where you were going, yet it seemed your hope burst like a bubble, a sharp gasp of surprise escaped your throat when you felt your body crash into someone’s chest. You thought for a moment you were going to be greeted with the same villainous face, instead, you saw a face that seemed familiar to you—in a sense of happiness, relief, like you’d known him your entire life.

It was Dean. But he looked different to you. His hair was styled in a faux hawk and dressed in a suit that looked cheap, but you seemed to have remembered that you’d seen him in the outfit a handful of times before. His hands protectively wrapped around your waist and gave you a concerned look, as he opened his mouth up to his speak, his first words sounded like a feline cat.

Your eyelids ripped open when you realized you were dreaming, the book you’d been reading in bed the night before fell to the ground, but your attention was drawn to Luna, who was perched at your left side of the bed and staring at you with a pair of green eyes you’d seen before waking up. You gave her a lazy smile as you lightly scratched the bottom of her chin, gaining a small purr from the cat. Over the past few nights you’d been having the strangest dreams. Some of them were a bit funny, a few had left you in a cold sweat from how vivid and terrifying they were. You leaned over the bed slightly to see the worn out copy of Dracula you’d picked up from the thrift shop was now lying on the floor, your spot was now gone. You had little time to dwell on the struggle of finding your last spot when your eyes wandered away from the discarded book to the alarm clock sitting on the edge of your nightstand. You look at it for one second, not giving it much thought, but when you glance back at it, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head from the time.

It was 7:15 in the morning, when you were usually getting yourself settled at your desk, you were now ripping off your comforter from your body with a slew of curse words falling from your lips. You didn’t have time to worry about the strange dream, you were now stressing about making it on time to work without getting yourself in trouble with your boss.

\+ + +

Somehow you managed to get yourself showered and put on a decent layer of makeup so you didn’t look like a complete mess. You rolled up the sleeves to your light blue button up to your sleeves as you made sure your pencil skirt was pressed down from any possible wrinkles. You might be running late, but you didn’t need to look like you were. Before you departed from your apartment, you made sure Luna was fed for the day and everything was turned off, with the door securely locked, you were out before you could be even late to work than you were. Luckily you managed to arrive a little after eight to the office, quiet as you were, you knew there wasn’t a chance Dean was going to brush off your tardiness. You put all your belongings to your desk and sucked in a deep breath of confidence before walking over to his office door that was always cracked open. You wrapped your fingers around the base of the wooden frame and lightly tapped against the door, signaling your presence to him.

You took notice that his outfit on this Tuesday morning, like the past three weeks since you’d started working here, was dressed in a sharp looking suit that looked like it would cost two months of your rent. For a second you began to wonder if he’d ever styled his hair differently, or if he ever wore something like flannel in his entire lifetime. You doubted anything but designer or handmade touched his body. Your eyes wandered up to the trusty earpiece clipped in so he could freely wander around the room and speak. You watched as he went on about the company’s quarterly sales and made use of the mini golf course he’d had set up right across from his desk so he could practice his swing before hitting the country club in a few weeks when it opened for spring. You found yourself drifting away from the conversation you didn’t have a clue he was talking about, and to how his lips formed each word his spoke, or how his green eyes always shifted into a serious gaze when he went on about a subject you weren’t familiar with.

You didn’t realize you had spaced out until you came back into reality after catching Dean repeating your name for the third time. His call ended, prompting the cycle of working to start all over again, but when he found you staring off into space, you were greeted with him staring at you with an eyebrow cocked up and his lips stretched into a smirk. You could feel the heat creep from the nape of your neck, but you managed to keep yourself composed as Dean began listing off requests that needed to be done today. You listened well as you could, making a mental note as you grabbed the thick pile of folders from his desk that he had been reviewing the day before that needed to be filed again. For a second you found yourself staring at him, wondering about the dream you had last night, but when he caught your lingering gaze, you brushed off the feeling with a small smile and went on working like nothing was wrong.

Most of the morning went on as normal, you fell into a comfortable routine of your work that included typing up emails and fetching documents Dean asked for so he could finish a report that needed to be due this afternoon. You found yourself on the twenty-first floor when the report was done and needed to be delivered first hand after Dean was roped into another call that was rather important not to miss. The file needed to be handed off to the director of tech support who, ironically, preferred the traditional paper route than dealing with an email with the document attached.

You didn’t mind stepping away from your desk so you could stretch your legs. The layout of the floor was far different from upstairs; most of what you were seeing people sitting inside their tiny cubicles, passing the day by speaking to customers who didn’t have a single clue of how to work a computer. Most of the workers you passed were slacking off and leaning back in their chairs, they asked questions in a monotone voice, as if they were trying their hardest not to fall asleep. But you found yourself taking a double take when you passed an older gentleman who was diligently working at his desk, ignoring the commotion that was going on around him, and your lingering stare that was growing uncomfortably long.

You didn’t give the man much more thought as you stepped inside the break room that was shared with the top two floors since there wasn’t space left upstairs. You normally didn’t come down here, but since you skipped breakfast this morning, you decided to treat yourself with another cup of coffee to hold yourself over before lunch. You found someone had made a fresh pot and stacked a new pile of paper cups after you plucked one up for yourself. With a warm cup in your hands, you were ready to go back to your desk and finish up whatever work that was waiting for you, but your attention was captured by the leftover breakfast the company sometimes would buy for its workers. Your manicured fingers hovered in the air as you began wondering if you should indulge yourself with a muffin. For a moment you didn’t realize you weren’t alone anymore until you heard the coffee pot move from its place.

You snatched a muffin that seemed appetizing enough and turned your head to see a tall figure standing right across from you, but with his back turned, you couldn’t see his face. You however spotted a familiar coworker indulging himself with supplies that was locked away in the metal cabinet. Ian helped you a few times during your first week here after you accidentally made your computer crash and the copier got jammed. He was a pretty nice guy, but he wasn’t exactly the model worker, from his casual attire to the way he was stuffing office supplies into his pockets for safekeeping. The person standing next to you caught him, and at the familiarity of his voice, you cranked your neck to see you were standing next to the man from the awkward elevator ride.

“Just doing a little shopping. Running low at home.” Ian said, not seeming to notice what the big deal was about. You shook your head from his excuse as Ian shut the door, he looked over at you, his lips stretching into a friendly smile when he saw you lingering. You returned the gesture as Ian grabbed the cup from his coworker.He’d known the both of you equally since starting here, so when he struck up a conversation with the other man, he didn’t seem too afraid of an outsider listening in. “So, Sam…had any of those dreams lately?” You found yourself glued to your spot when you found yourself suddenly overcome with curiosity, wondering what they were talking about. The man named Sam answered with an eye roll and a heavy sigh, knowing how awkward this was going to be, especially with a stranger standing right next to him. “What? Don’t be like that. Come on. It’s the highlight of my day.”

Sam turned his back toward Ian so he could pour himself a cup of coffee before putting the cup back, it also gave him a chance to roll his eyes once more from the situation that he was put under. “I never should have told you in the first place.”

“Come on!” Ian egged him off. You found yourself looking over at him when he dragged you into this conversation, as if you gave any indication that you were interested in this conversation. But here you were, with a hot cup of coffee and a muffin in your hand, you were still here. It didn’t help that you were fixated on whoever was speaking. “Don’t hold out on me and Y/N, dude. Share with the class. We wanna know what’s going on in that crazy head of yours.”

“You’re just gonna be a dick about it.” Sam muttered. He turned around in his spot and gave his coworker a look when you weren’t paying attention. He told Ian about the incident in the elevator, and to his luck, you came walking in, prompting him to be pulled further down this rabbit hole that made him want to curl up and crawl into the corner from embarrassment.

“What? No way! Y/N and I won’t say a word—total respect.” Ian said. You found yourself shrugging your shoulders when Sam glanced over at you, for a moment you could see he was hesitant to begin this story. You had no reason to speak a word of this to another human, it would just clarify even more of how much a strange man he was. “Come on, dude. Go.”

Sam let out a small sigh as he hesitated for the longest moment, wondering why he agreed to tell a dream he’d had last night. You remained silent as you stared at him with an eyebrow arched up, the expression seemed familiar to him, like he’d seen it before. After a long period of silence, Sam told the both of you, without realizing how stupid it was until he said it out loud. “I dreamt that I saved a grim reaper named Tessa from demons.”

Ian, like always, burst out laughing as a grin spread across his lips from how ridiculous it sounded to him. You found yourself becoming silent for a moment as you ripped off a small piece of the muffin you were holding. “Uh, I had a dream a few nights ago about a well that granted people wishes.” You found yourself admitting a dream that you had a few nights ago. You couldn’t help yourself admit it after Ian reacted the way he did. Sam looked absolutely mortified, so you helped him out a bit, like you were his friend. But you reminded yourself that you didn’t even know who he was until last night. “I remember there being a huge alcoholic and depressed teddy bear.”

“And I thought Sam’s stories couldn’t be beaten! How much D&D did you play when you were a kid, Sam? Oh, my.” Ian couldn’t contain his amusement as you popped the piece of muffin into your mouth and watched as he paced around the room, trying his hardest not to laugh again from what he was hearing. “Okay, so Sam is rescuing the grim reaper. And Y/N is dealing with Care Bears gone wild. You’re a hero. I mean, thank God we got Harry Potter and Hermione Granger here to save us all from killer bears and the apocalypse.”

“Dick.”

“Wizard!”

\+ + +

The rest of the afternoon seemed to have slipped by, you returned to your desk and finished up whatever that was needed to be done. But when you found the time slipping to almost six, you found yourself drifting away from the email that you were writing. You let out a yawn, your body was starting to lose the caffeine buzz from this afternoon. You tried pulling yourself through, knowing you only had another half an hour to go before you could call it quitting time. But it seemed your body wouldn’t have it. You mentally gave yourself a five minute break. Letting out another yawn, you closed your eyes and pressed your eyelids shut, hoping a small power nap would be enough to pull through. Once you blocked out the faint ringing phone calls and muffled voices, you found yourself drifting off into thought, being pulled back into an array of dreams that were starting to affect you during the day.

Your imagination liked to run wild at times, you would admit that to anyone. But the images flashing across in your mind were things you’d never thought of before. For some reason you dreamt of things that seemed impossible to you, or things that you would see in books or movies. People with black eyes that gave you an unfeeling in the pit of your stomach. Things that looked human but with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. But that wasn’t the strangest part of it. You were dead center in the danger, fighting these creatures like it was your job. You found yourself drifting into what felt like a memory of you swimming in a pool to save a little girl named Tyler from drowning. You didn’t know someone named Tyler. And you hated water since you had a phobia of it since you almost drowned yourself when you were a child. Ever since then, you had swore off open bodies of water. But there you were in your mind, dreaming about it like you had no fear, thinking only about saving another life.

You didn’t realize you were out for longer than you had expected, the sound of a slamming door brought you into reality, sending your arm to your lap as your eyelids ripped open. You sat straight in your seat and blinked, suddenly realizing you had accidentally fallen asleep. You tried figuring out what time it was, but your computer had fallen dark, your screen gave you a reflection of your slightly scrunched up hair and Dean standing next to his closed door. You swiveled around in your chair and looked at Dean, he was standing with his office keys in one hand and the strap to his leather briefcase over his shoulder. Both of you stared at one another for a second before he gave you a look, nodding that it was time to leave. Another rush of color threatened to spread across your cheeks, luckily enough you caught yourself, quickly leaving your computer as is, you grabbed your belongings before you were following behind Dean to the elevators, suddenly aching to go home and pretend today never happened.

A few minutes later and you were standing in the back of the elevator with four other people. You found yourself being pressed against the back of the small room after it moved around to pick up a few other people on the way. Elevator etiquette made it so the entire place was eerily silent and everybody tried their hardest not to look at one another. You kept yourself busy by looking down at your phone and playing some game you found. When the elevator stopped on another floor, you didn’t look up to see who boarded up after the other four people got off, giving much more room as another body stepped on. The doors closed and from the slight jerk in motion, you were off again. You remained as you were a for a few moments longer, but when you felt a lingering gaze upon you, you found your gaze slowly going upward, catching sight of Sam. You furrowed your brow in annoyance before you looked back at your screen, hoping he wouldn’t try and pull the same crap like yesterday. But you weren’t lucky.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sam’s voice broke your attention, yet again.

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand to your side, suddenly aggravated from what he was doing. “Look, I have a boyfriend.” You said to him, hoping a little white lie would be enough for him to leave you alone once and for all.

“What? I just want to ask you one question.” Sam said, seeming thrown off from the signal he was giving you. You looked at him a bit funny, but you agreed with a shrug, wondering what he wanted to bug you about. But Sam suddenly became shy, he shifted his footing around as he lightly chuckled, unsure how you were going to react. “What do you think about ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” You repeated after him.

“Do you believe in them?” He asked you, prompting Dean to chuckle himself at what he heard.

Obviously your boss was nothing more than amused from what was going on here, but you wondered what Sam was getting at with this. You crossed your arms over your chest and tucked your phone so it wouldn’t slip from your grip. “Uh, to tell you the truth,” You didn’t know why you were feeding into this conversation, but you answered him with an honest answer. “Yeah…I do.”

“Vampires?” Sam asked, you looked at him like the man grew a second head.

“What?” You questioned him with a baffled tone from what he asked “Why?”

“Cause I’ve been having some…weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?” Sam looked at the both of you, wondering if he wasn’t going crazy. It didn’t take a second before you found the answer lingering at the tip of your tongue, and while you wanted to say yes, confirming what the man was leading at, Dean answered with a no after a moment. You dropped your gaze to the ground as you rubbed the back of your neck. “So…you’ve never had any…weird dreams?”

You found yourself suddenly becoming motivated to tell him the truth, but it seemed Dean couldn’t stand the progress of this conversation anymore. He decided to cut the elevator ride short for himself. You looked away from Sam to see that the other man was pushing a button for the doors to open. “All right, look, man, I don’t know you, okay?” Dean grabbed his briefcase and got himself ready to step out to get out of this uncomfortable atmosphere. “But I’m gonna do a public service and let you know that you over-share.”

You watched as the man furiously push the button before the doors swung open, giving him the chance he was waiting for to get out. Dean gave a disturbed expression to Sam before he walked off, leaving the both of you alone in the elevator once more. You stayed back when you looked to see you had still ten floors to go before hitting the lobby. Dean didn’t even wish you good night like he always did, his only focus was to get the hell out of here. As the doors closed behind him, you and Sam were left in silence, unsure of where this left the conversation. You looked at the shut doors for a moment when the elevator kicked back into progress again. As you debated with yourself to figure out where this would go, you were tempted to ask him more about these dreams, but you chickened out after the last second. You put your attention back to the phone in your hand and continued on your game, pretending that Sam didn’t exist.

\+ + +

Wednesday brought nothing exciting, it passed like a regular work week between dealing with the usual workload. But you noticed you had no strange dreams, not since the conversation with Sam. On Thursday, well, that’s when things became strange. You managed to get yourself to work on time with a cup of coffee you bought on the way to work. You set down your bag on your desk and reached to take a sip of your drink, but just one sip of it made your face scrunch up at how cold it tasted to you. You knew the shop was busy for this morning, the poor barista probably forgot to warm up the water to the right temperature. You weren’t going to waste a perfectly good five dollar cup of coffee. So your solution was to head down to the break room and warm it up in the microwave, problem solved.

You headed down to the twenty-first floor with your cup, the first thing you noticed was that not a single soul was in sight. As you took in a breath, you quickly coughed at the reaction when you smelt a foul odor you weren’t expected. You pinched your nose and walked to the break room, thinking that it could be some strange food somebody microwaved this morning. But what you saw was something far more deadlier. You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed the microwave was open with a plastic fork jammed into the socket. But that wasn’t what made your coffee slip from your grip and fall to the ground, or even how your eye bulged out of your head. It was the dead body on the ground with its face unrecognizable from the burns on his face. You stared at the sight for a split second, all before you were letting out a blood curdling scream, so loud, you swore the entire building heard you.

Paul Dunbar, the man you passed the other day who was working so diligently, killed himself late last night. An under an hour the entire floor was buzzing with workers, wondering what was going on. You stood far away from the sight as possible as you tried your hardest to give the police your statement to what you saw happen. All though it was almost near impossible to keep yourself from getting the image of your head, you managed to tell them what you could, all though it wasn’t much. The officer gave you a nod of appreciation before heading off, leaving you alone with Dean and Mark, who had been graciously at your side since this nightmare unfolded.

Dean asked you, yet again, if you wanted to take a personal day. You crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head, thinking it would be better to keep yourself busy than stay at home with the images repeating themselves in your mind. You looked away when the coroner walked passed the three of you with the dead body on a stretcher. It didn’t help that when you tried focusing on something else, you made eye contact with Sam, who was standing right across the room.

"Something about this seem not right to you?” Dean asked the man standing next to him. He kept his voice quiet as possible so you wouldn’t hear him, but you did. It seemed there was something going on here that was starting to make him think.

“Uh, yeah. Try the whole thing.” Mark remarked with a scoff at the other man’s question. “I’m telling you, man…I’ll never eat popcorn again.”

\+ + +

Your mother used to say an idle mind is the devil’s workshop. You couldn’t help yourself when the rest of the afternoon had turned into a slow one, making you wonder if the whispers you heard around the office were true. Everyone was taken by surprise when they heard Paul had committed suicide with only two weeks left to go before retirement. You bit your bottom lip in nervousness as you pulled up the company records that were for management only. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed that Dean wasn’t even paying the least bit of attention of what you were doing, his focus was on his own computer screen as he typed up another email. You shifted around in your seat and punched in the username information that you stumbled upon at Dean’s desk when he wasn’t looking. It was simple to remember, and as you pushed the enter button on your keyboard, you were granted access to the files you were curious to see. If anyone found out what you were doing, breaking into the company files, you could be fired on the spot. But it seemed everyone was caught up in their own business to worry.

You punched in Paul Dunbar’s name into the search engine and made sure his employee number was correct after you messily scribbled it down, afraid you were going to get caught after snooping in things you weren’t supposed to. With a push of a button you were granted access to Human Resources digital document of the deceased worker. You skimmed the information that didn’t seem too important, that was, until you spotted something interesting in the notes button on the lower bottom right screen. You sank your teeth deeper into your lip as you clicked on it, watching as a smaller popup screen came up.

Reading the few sentences, your eyes widened at the rumors that turned to be exactly true. You leaned back in your seat and reread the information to yourself one more time, as if you were trying to make sense of this situation. You wondered why someone with two weeks left until retirement would just up and kill themselves without leaving a note explaining why. What you couldn’t shake off was why Paul didn’t just do the deed at home. It seemed strange, even to the police, that he stuck a plastic fork into the microwave and fried his head for all the world to see. Everyone hated their job, and Paul complained from time to time, but he never despised this place enough to finish himself off in the break room. Unless…maybe he wasn’t in control of himself. What he was possessed by a second party to do it? You examined the screen for a moment, an uneasy feeling began to sit in the pit of your stomach at the thought.

“Y/N?” Dean calling out your name sent you into a frantic tizzy, breaking you away from your wandering thoughts. You automatically clicked out of the window screen before he could find out what you were doing and quickly turned around in your seat to see what he needed A small breath fell from your lips as you reached up to pull away a piece of hair that attached itself to your lipstick. You gave Dean a small smile when you noticed him lingering out from the door. “I need you to bring me Ian from Tech Support.”

You nodded your head at his command and watched for a moment as Dean headed back to his office before you were grabbing your phone to make the call. Punching in the number, you wondered if Ian finally got busted for stealing all the office supplies after someone ratted on him. It took a few minutes before he got up to the floor, as you looked up from the computer screen, you greeted him with a smile, but you did a double take at what you saw standing in front of you. Ian wasn’t dressed in his usual casual attire and scruffy face. Instead the man standing in front of you was wearing neatly pressed down khakis and the pale yellow uniform shirt you thought he didn’t own. An eyebrow arched up when you noticed his hair was slicked back and his face was neatly shaved. This wasn’t the Ian you were used to seeing, but you wondered if he’d gotten into serious trouble with Human Resources after he mentioned getting an email from them yesterday before leaving the break room.

You looked at him a moment longer until you pulled yourself out of your thoughts. You greeted him with a smile as you got up from your chair to direct him to Dean’s office. He followed behind you with the same blankless, almost uneasy, expression on his face after he arrived up here. You softly knocked on Dean’s door, breaking the man away from the paperwork he’d been doing while waiting. “Hi. Ian is it? Come on in.” Dean waved the man in as he pulled out a piece of paper from his small pile. Ian timidly walked further into the office as you leaned against the doorway. “Yesterday, you filled out a 445-T. And, uh, no problem—just a few errors. I mean, we did just switch over to Vista, so I’m sure you’re used to filling out the dash-r’s, am I right?”

“Oh, no.” Ian muttered underneath his breath. It was easy to hear the distress he was feeling.

“No, no, no. It’s fine. It’s fine. I just need you to redo one today so I can get the show on the road with the invoicing.” Dean said, putting down the document to the edge of the desk so Ian could redo it. You noticed that Ian was filled with remorse at what he did, you could see the panic flash across his eyes. Dean tried his hardest to make it as this wasn’t a big deal. Which it wasn’t. This was the third time you were going through this routine, but Ian was acting like he’d been told like he had lost his job. “No, it’s fine. Just fill it out and give it to Y/N so she can refile it afterward, then we’re square.”

“I can’t believe I did this. I can't—I can’t believe I did it. I can’t believe I did this. "Ian kept repeating to himself in a whispered tone. You furrowed your brow in concern as you watched the man work himself up over something so small. Out of worry for the man, you tried telling him that it was okay, but he cut you off, getting himself lost in the hysteria. "It affected profits. It—I screwed up. I can't—I can’t. I am so sorry. How could I do that?” You found yourself drifting away from Ian, who seeme to be going through an anxiety attack, to Dean for a moment, taking notice that he was becoming confused at what was going on here. “I failed Sandover. I failed the company.”

Ian, the carefree man who didn’t even like to follow corporate rules of the dress code, was having a mental breakdown right in front of your eyes. Your face scrunched up at what was happening, even as you tried your hardest to take a step forward and offer him a chair to calm down, you always tried to help people at their weakest, he wouldn’t listen to anyone. Dean took off his earpiece and threw it to his desk, not caring where it landed, he knew something was going on here. Neither you or Dean could get the man in a better state, or be fast enough when he brushed past you, Ian ran down the hall to the bathrooms for privacy. Dean gave you an uneasy look, unsure how he was going to handle this, but he followed behind the man and into the men’s bathroom, where it remained empty except for the two of them.

Dean stood back for a moment, he lingered at the doorway as he tried to figure out what was going on here. Ian was at the sink and stared at his reflection with such a hatred expression that was directed to himself. Dean noticed the man’s fingers were wrapped around the countertop, his grip so hard it made his knuckles turn into a ghostly white from the pressure he was applying. “Ian, man.” He spoke to the man with a calm and friendly tone as he began to take small steps forward. “Just chill out, okay?” When his words hit the air, Dean could feel a sudden shift in temperature, his breath that escaped his lips turned into a puff of smoke, the room suddenly felt freezing cold.

That wasn’t the only strange thing that happened, it was just the beginning. Dean’s eyes flickered to the soap dispensers that were directly next to the sink. Thanks to modern technology everything was hands free, all someone had to do was swipe their hand over the machine and the perfect amount of a pale pink antibacterial soap would dispense. And every single one of them was going off, and like some chain reaction, Dean flinched when the sinks started going off—but nobody was using them. Ian sure wasn’t doing anything. He just stood there, looking so defeated. The expression in his face wasn’t leaving a pleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, and add together all the malfunctioning bathroom gear, he wanted to get the hell out of here before something happened. He didn’t know what it was. But for some reason, he knew there would be consequences.

“Hey, maybe we should get out of here, huh?” He suggested, hoping the man would snap out of this trance and listen to him. Ian just stood there, as if he didn’t hear him. “Come on. Ian.” Dean tired to speak in his authority voice, a tone he rarely used, but it did the trick on people. But not this time. The soap began to pile up like a puddle on the floor, he could feel the uneasiness grow. “Look at me.”

Ian listened to him this time. Dean watched as the man took his blankness expression away from the mirror and to him, giving him a piece of mind that Ian could be just stressed out from work. All he had to do was get him back into his office and talk things through. Dean suddenly knew that wasn’t going to be an option anymore when he saw Ian reach a hand inside his pocket, pulling out what seemed to be a pencil with the sharpest tip someone could make. Dean had a feeling Ian wasn’t going to be jotting down a few notes, he watched with a close eye, wondering what the man’s move was going to be. But it was one he wasn’t expecting. Without a warning, Ian plunged the pencil into the crook of his neck, the foul sounds of him groaning seconds later made Dean’s eyes widened from what had unfolded right in front of his eyes.

Dean hesitantly stayed back for just a few seconds, watching with horror as Ian began to profoundly bleed from his neck wound, covering his clothes with a deep red crimson color Dean never seen before in his life. It was the sound of Ian’s body hitting the bathroom floor that made Dean realize what was going on. He rushed forward and dropped himself to his knees, unsure of what to do. But for a second he broke his gaze away from Ian when he felt this presence lingering around the room. Dean snapped his head upward at the mirrors to see there was a foggy shadow of an old man in the back of the room, but he wasn’t there before. He frantically looked over his shoulder to see there was no old man, nobody was in the bathroom except for himself and Ian.

Dean dropped his attention back to the man that was lying right beside him, he looked exactly at the right time to see Ian take his final gasp of breath before he stopped moving, leaving his eyes to stare at the void. Inhaling a few deep breaths of the floral soap and iron rich blood, Dean realized what he had witnessed. “Somebody help me!” He called out for anyone to get him away from this sight that he knew would never leave his mind.

Not even a second passed by before he heard the bathroom door swing open and heels against the tiled floor after hearing him. You stood outside of the room, nervously curious to see what was going on in here, but what you saw made a sharp gasp of surprise escape your lips. Ian laid lifeless on the ground, a pencil sticking out from the crook of his neck, and Dean hovering over him, his skin was pale—like he’d seen a ghost. Without needing a second command, your shaking hands reached inside your skirt pocket and pulled out your phone, calling the police to inform there was yet another suicide. They were here just this morning to pick up a body. You couldn’t keep your gaze away from Ian’s body as you explained calm as you could to the operator. Deep in the back of your mind, a little voice spoke to you, making you wonder why this felt so familiar. It wasn’t seeing a dead body. But knowing that this, what was causing them, couldn’t be right. Yet…you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not just yet, anyway.

\+ + +

It took twenty minutes before you could feel a rush of deja vu hitting you all over again from what was happening. The floor was crowded with lingering coworkers after they spotted another crowd of officers come rushing through the building. You stood in the small corner that was adjacent to the bathroom door with your arms wrapped around your chest, your eyes wouldn’t leave the blood stains left on Dean’s once perfectly neat blue button up. Today his suit was paired together with a silky yellow tie with blue stripes, pulled together with a navy blue suspenders and a little yellow pattern that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing. But now it was ruined. Dean was probably too mortified to bring it to the dry cleaners, they’d probably think he was Patrick Bateman American Psycho. Handsome businessman, screaming at the people because they couldn’t take out the bloodstains good as he wanted. You shook the thought of your mind, suddenly wondering why your mind would come up with such a grim reference.

“I, uh, I-I followed him into the bathroom. He was…He was standing there in front of the mirror, and then—” Dean’s voice brought you back into reality. You drifted your gaze away from Ian’s body that was now being rolled off by a pair officers with a group of bystanders shocked and saddened at what happened. As you tore away from the scene, you found yourself gazing the crowd, until you spotted a familiar face standing across the hall. You wrapped your arms tighter around your body when you saw Sam looking at you, you quickly looked back to Dean, who was stumbling to get back his train of thought. “And, uh, he stabbed himself in the neck. I’m sorry. That’s, uh…”

Dean found himself becoming distracted with another thought when he spotted the man, the one who had tried to talk to him two times this past week, about the craziest things. He gave the officers a nod when they seemed to have gotten what they needed. You looked over at him with a concerned expression, wondering what you could do to help him. Dean looked down at his shirt and grimaced at the blood. First things first, he needed to change. The he needed to find out who the hell that man was. And what the hell was going on here.

You and Dean walked back to his office in complete silence, shock seemed to have been surrounding the both of you from the events that had taken place in less than twenty four hours. Dean headed back to his desk, needing a moment of silence to himself so his mind could wrap around what he’d witnessed. You hated sitting still when you were feeling anxious. Through half sentences Dean managed to give you for what he needed, you grabbed him a new button up shirt from the coat closet and worked on tracking down the number to this Sam, knowing Dean was rather pressed on having a word alone with him. You sat back down at your desk and grabbed the phone off the hook, with a free hand, you began punching in the extension numbers, you waited a moment before you heard his voice from the other line.

“Tech support. This is Sam.”

“Mr. Smith needs to see you in his office—now.”

You could hear the urgency in your own voice before you were slamming down the phone back to its receiver. You tried to keep your mind busy by opening up your email, curious to see if there was any possible replies you’d gotten back from this morning or future meetings you needed to pencil into Dean’s schedule. Unfortunately there was no chance since you last checked it a few hours ago, before any of this chaos erupted. You let out a quiet sigh and clicked out of the window, leaving you with the company desktop screen as your focus for a moment, that was, until you caught sight of the familiar yellow shirt. You cranked your head away from the computer screen to see Sam, dressed in the hideous polo and a messenger bag hanging off his shoulder. He greeted you with half a smile, you ignored it and pushed yourself out of your seat, nodding your head for him to follow you.

You cracked open the door and made sure to knock, signaling your presence when you noticed that Dean was doing up the last buttons of his shirt. He looked at you for a moment before making eye contact with the body towering over yours. “Come on in.” Dean instructed to Sam, who awkwardly shuffled into the room. You quietly stood in the doorway and waited for the signal your boss to dismiss you like always. Instead he did the opposite. He wanted you to stay. You were filled with confusion, but you did what you were told, you closed the door to give the three of you privacy. You walked forward to his bookcase, positioning yourself in the middle of the men. Sam lingered near the doorway, unsure of what to do. Dean pushed in his chair, and instead of sitting, he leaned over, putting his focus on the man that stood across from him. “Who the hell are you?”

Sam was silent for a moment or two, not sure how to answer the question. His response, which was a very quiet scoff and shrug of his shoulders, made you look at him strangely. “I’m not sure I know.” He admitted with a whispered tone, nervously chuckling at what he said.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean questioned the other man.

“Sam Wesson.” Sam formally introduced himself to the three of you. You noticed how he shifted his footing around to exchange his weight as he adjusted the strap of his bag. “I started here three weeks ago.”

“All right.” Dean mumbled to himself for just a moment. He listened to the new information, giving him some more insight on the man that, at first, seemed like some whack job who thought things that go bump in the night were real. But after what he witnessed just an hour ago, he couldn’t shake this paranoid feeling, like someone was watching him, and for a moment, there was an old man lurking in the shadows. Yet when Dean looked to see who it was, the person was gone. “You cornered Y/N and I in the elevator, talking about ghosts. And now…“

Dean suddenly fell silent as he trailed off into thought, his gaze lurking down at his desk, as if he was trying to find another topic to transition. You crossed your arms over your chest and furrowed your brow. "Now what?” You asked him, pressing the man for what he was trying to say.

“Now nothing. I, uh… So, you started working here three weeks ago, huh?” Dean asked the other man. He moved away from his desk to fetch the water bottle, trying to make small talk, and avoiding the subject that was burning in the back of his mind. Sam nodded his head when it was appropriate, yet his curiosity lingered down to the murky water Dean was drinking, which yet struck up another conversation that avoided the one each of you were desperate to bring up. “It’s, uh, master cleanse. You tried it? Phenomenal. Detoxes you like nobody’s business.”

Normally you weren’t the type to poke your nose in someone else’s business, especially not your boss. But here you stood with this feeling scratching inside of you, gnawing at your mind for an ounce of attention. Your mouth lingered open, and before you could stop it, you were dragging the conversation back to the topic Dean was trying his hardest ignore. “When you were in that bathroom with Ian…” You asked him, wondering if you were just being paranoid. All those years of reading and watching horror genre might have started to mess with your head. The look on Dean’s face told you a different story. It made you wonder if it was true. “Did you see something?”

“I don’t know what I saw.” Dean admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

“Wait. Are you saying that—” Sam jumped into the conversation, wondering himself if the man was withholding information that might have sounded insane. But at this moment, it sounded like the most logical explanation out there. “Did you..see a ghost?”

“I was freaking out.” Dean ignored the explanation that sounded right in his head, but the realist in him denied the possibility. He leveled it out to shock, the mind made him believe there was someone else inside the bathroom. “The guy penciled his damn neck.”

“You did, didn’t you?” Sam asked, the man answered when he looked down, signaling that he didn’t want to confess to the feeling that was weighing heavily on his gut. You remained silent for the most part, but your gaze full of curiosity told a different story, it gave Sam confidence to suggest an idea that was burning in the back of his mind. “Okay, listen—what if these suicides…aren’t suicides? I mean, w-what if there’s something…not natural?”

“Wait. You mean something,” You looked at Sam like you did when you were in the elevator for a second before you realized you were about to sound crazy as him for believing there was a sliver of a chance he was right. Still, your lips stretched into a faint smile, a scoff coming out of your mouth from what you were about to say out loud, pretending that it was an impossible theory. “Supernatural?“

Sam shrugged his shoulders, thinking that your suggestion sounded a lot better than his own. But Dean didn’t seem to agree with either one of you as he remained a skeptic. “So, what—ghosts are real?” He asked the both of you, directing your gaze over to him. He pushed out his chair to take a seat at his desk once more as he tried wrapping up this conversation, wanting to prove you and Sam, two people that he barely knew, as lunatics. “And they’re responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you’re telling me?”

"Look,” Sam pushed up one of the chairs that was next to the desk to take a seat, you sat at the edge of the desk. “I know it sounds crazy. But yes—that’s what I’m telling you.”

“Uh-huh.” Dean hummed. “Based on what?”

Sam was hesitant for a moment to answer the question, “Instinct?”

“I thought I was the only one.” You admitted with a timid and quiet voice, now realizing what that feeling was inside your gut was all about.

You stared at Sam for a moment, both of you sharing an emotion that you thought would never share with someone you barely knew for more than three days. Neither one of you had a conversation before, not until now. When you looked at him again, you felt a small spark, as if you suddenly knew him for your entire life. You felt a shift in the atmosphere between the three of you when Dean spoke up, sharing a detail that only made your feeling grow stronger. “I’ve got the same instinct.” Dean whispered, making you tear your gaze away from Sam to look at the other man. Your eyes widening slightly when you realized what was going on here.

“Seriously?” Sam asked, sharing the same reaction as you. Dean still seemed to have been in shock at what was going on, he brought a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes from the stress that was piling up quicker than he could handle. “You know the dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts. And then it turns out that there’s a real ghost.”

“Wait, wait.” You put a hand up, stopping Sam for a moment from what he was saying. “You’re telling me that your dreams are special visions and you’re some kind of psychic?”

“No. I mean, that would be nuts.” Sam chuckled and smiled, thinking to himself of how stupid of a possibility that was. “I’m just saying, something weird is definitely going on around here, right?”

“Oh, I agree. Hold on.” You said to Sam, nodding your head. You pushed yourself up from the desk and exited the office before going to your desk. You shuffled around a few papers before you found the printouts you secretly had gotten ahold of and headed back to the boys. Handing them over, you wrapped your fingers together, knowing what you were about to present was a good lead that seemed to make you realize something strange was going on. And it was going to get you into very big trouble. “So I’ve been digging around a little. I think I found a connection between the two guys.”

Sam skimmed through the information, intrigued at what you found. Dean took one glance before he was looking up at you, his face hardening at what he was held in his grip. “Y/N, you broke into their email accounts?” He asked, disbelief in his tone.

“I used some skills that I happen to have to…satisfy my curiosity.” You explained to him, an innocent smile spread across your lips, hopeful that the next words that came out of his mouths involved fired. Luckily when he spoke, your smile grew as you let out a nervous chuckle from his nonchalant response at what you admitted.

“Nice.” Dean compliment you. “You’re like Nancy Drew.”

“Thanks, I think.” You said, unsure if you should be proud at what he referenced to. “Okay. So, it turns out that Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to H.R. room 1444.”

“H.R.’s on seven.” Dean said, noticing the fault in details that didn’t make sense to you. You and Sam exchanged looks, both of you curious to see what was inside the room, but it was the other man who suggested the plan. “Should we go and check this out?”

“Like…right now?” You asked him.

“No. No, it’s getting late.” Dean mumbled. “You’re right.”

A silence fell between the three of you, as if your response was a bit of hesitance, but that was far from it. You looked over at Sam again, both of you sharing a glint in your eye of a deep curiosity, a desire to find out what was going on. When you knew each of you shared the same feeling, you glanced over at Dean, wondering if he felt the same. “I am dying to check this out right now.” Sam admitted what the three of you were feeling, but too afraid to say.

“Right?” You and Dean repeated each other with a matching smile spreading across the ends of your lips.

\+ + +

The fourteenth floor had been abandoned for years, there was no real use for it, so employees used it for storage of old computers and other possible junk the company was too frugal on throwing away. When you stepped off the elevator and to the floor, you knew just at the sight of the dimly lit halls and chipping paint job that trouble lurked ahead. You hesitantly kept yourself back, suddenly unsure of why you even agreed to this. Even if there was a ghost, how the hell were going to get rid of it? You had a feeling high heels and a dress wasn’t exactly the proper dress code to be hunting ghosts. For the most part all you heard was an eerie silence that filled the entire floor, it made your heartbeat even faster inside your chest with nervousness.

The boys in front of you seemed eager to see what was going on as you trailed behind. You thought again of why you wanted to be up here, but it was the sound of someone screaming and the echoes of something heavy falling that caught your attention, immediately making your past thoughts vanish. All of you headed forward to room 1444, with its door closed, Sam tried to see if he could wiggle the handle, but it wouldn’t budge at he realized it was lock. That wasn’t going to stop the man. You watched as Sam took a few steps back, all before he was swinging up a leg, easily breaking down the wooden door without breaking a sweat. Your mouth parted open slightly at what Sam was able to do. Part of you wasn’t surprised. For someone being well over six feet tall, you knew he had to be hiding all sorts of strength underneath the yellow polo and khakis.

Your attention was pulled back to the messy situation at hand to see someone was trapped underneath a heavy looking metal shelf. The crashing noises that you heard earlier was because of all the broken computer monitors and screens that laid scattered on the floor. Sam and Dean charged forward to help the man up, you remained in the hall, unsure of how you could be of help. The boys grabbed each side of the shelf to start lifting it up so the man could squeeze his way out. Before they could lift it a single inch, all of you had a special guest.

A loud gasp of surprise escaped your throat at what you saw; a pale and balding man stood in the middle of them, somehow coming into view by just the blink of an eye. He was dressed in outdated and dirty suit, with a scowl permanently on his face. You stood there like a statute as your eyes widened in terror as the stranger grabbed a hold of Dean and roughly threw him against the room, making him land into a shelf, one of the many spread around the room. Sam was unsure of what to do, he froze for a moment, but it only made him a target for the spirit. He was taken out easily as Dean, leaving both men to fail as witnesses to what was about to happen next. The ghost lifted up his right hand, getting ready to do whatever he did to Ian and Paul, but before he could something clicked inside your mind like a natural instinct. You raced inside the room after you spotted a rusty looking wrench from the floor and picked it up. Holding it like a baseball bat, you quickly swung at the spirit, not sure of what was going to happen. You stumbled forward as you roughly swung, almost shoving your entire body forward, getting rid of the spirit after it vanished into a puff of smoke.

The entire room dropped into silence again, your only noises that you could hear was your heavy breathing from what you’d done. The boys shared confused expressions at what just happened, but their focus settled again on trying to free the man, who still was pinned on the ground. You watched as the boys worked together, allowing the man to shimmy himself out, all before running away from here fast as possible. You let out a breath as you looked at the wrench, unsure of what the hell just happened. When you glanced back up, the boys were staring at you again in astonishment.

“How’d you know how to do that?”

“…I have no idea.”

\+ + +

You’d never felt a high like this before, with blood pumping faster in your veins and a smile still hanging on your lips, you couldn’t believe what you’d witnessed not even an hour ago. Ghosts were real, the new fact prompted your brain into a terrifying theory for a moment, making you wonder if there were more creatures lurking in the darkness that you once thought were fictional. Vampires, werewolves, witches—oh, my. You pushed all your racing thoughts out of your mind and kept yourself focused on the adrenaline that was still lingering and enjoying the cold floors against your aching feet with your heels laying besides the front door, showing off your pedicure you’d spent the previous Saturday enjoying as a late treat in finding a job and apartment quicker than you thought. While you loved your apartment and its cozy feel that you furnished through shopping at antique stores and thrift shops to save a dollar here and there, nothing compared to Dean’s penthouse and the incredible view of the city.

The interior was upscale modern from all the nifty looking gadgets you spotted in the open kitchen or the furniture that looked straight out of the home decor magazines you kept on your coffee for show. You examined the penthouse from the view of the leather couch you were leaning against with Sam for the past few moments. Being engrossed with your own thoughts, you jumped slightly when you heard Dean’s voice come from the kitchen, making you turn your head to see that he was heading forward, pacing around for the fourth time, still seeming to be in shock of what happened. He took another sip of his cleanse water from his bottle and paced one more time before stopping at the both of you. If he wasn’t a believer before, he sure was now from the expression still on his face after leaving the office.

“Holy crap, dude.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, seeming to still be in shock himself from what had unraveled just an hour prior.

“Yeah.” Sam agreed, a smile still lingering at the edges of his lips from tonight’s victory. Which called for a celebration after doing something that he thought wasn’t even possible, only kept in his dreams that had been growing stranger lately. For now, Sam kept himself in the moment. “I could use a beer.”

“Oh, sorry, man. I’m on the cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house.” Dean said, putting a damper in the mood. Sam looked at the man a bit funny as he passed by and walked back into the kitchen.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam’s voice brought your gaze away from Dean, who was working on fetching a few water bottles from the fridge, and over to him. You raised your brows when you noticed he was staring at you with a rather surprised look, bringing back a memory that was still fresh in your mind. “How the hell did you know that ghosts were scared of wrenches?”

You shrugged your shoulders, honestly admitting that you had no idea what came over you in that moment. You just saw the weapon and went for it. Maybe it had to do with how that man died. Your gaze broke away from Sam when you heard Dean’s footsteps approach the both of you. “Crazy, right?” Dean chuckled out, seeming impressed himself of what you did to save the day. You mumbled a thank you when you grabbed the cold plastic bottle from his hands before he returned to the kitchen island to fetch his own reusable water bottle. He looked over at Sam when he spoke again. “And nice job kicking in that door, too. Very Jet Li. What are you—like a black belt or something?”

“No. I have no clue how I did that.” Sam admitted with a chuckle. But the sound slowly drifted off into a silence that fell into the room, and the feeling, the one that had been gnawing at him for days, washed over him again. It was that deja vu feeling, when he finds himself working for a split second if he’s done this before, his life over the past few weeks has been the same cut and dry routine. But the emotion dug deeper than he once lead on. Now, after dealing with this ghost, and being around you and Dean for this long, the feeling was stronger than ever. “It’s like…we’ve done this before.”

“What do you mean, ‘before’?” You asked him, curious to know more from what he meant by that. “Like 'Shirley MacLaine before?”

Sam scoffed quietly underneath his breath as his eyes wandered around the room for a moment, wondering how he could explain this to the both of you to the best of his ability. “No. I just can’t this feeling like I—like I don’t belong here, you know what I mean? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle.”

“I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way.” You remarked, missing the entire point Sam was trying to make.

“No, Well, look, it’s more than that.” Sam tried to explain. He pushed himself to his feet and glanced down at his uniform, the hideous outfit he’d been forced to put on for the past three weeks in a row. Nothing of his felt…his. It was like he was a stranger in his own skin, going a routine that suddenly felt so abnormal to him. “Like—Like I don’t like my job. I don’t like this town. I don’t like my clothes. I don’t like my own last name, I—I don’t know how else to explain it, except that…it feels like I should be doing something else. There’s just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. You two ever feel that way?”

You fell silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer his question. There had been something growing inside of you, an emotion of uncertainty that the progress of your life wasn’t how you thought it should have ended up. You always brushed it off with an excuse of being almost thirty and stuck as being an assistant with no ring on your finger. But after hearing Sam admit his feelings, and after what you’d witnessed back at Sandover, you were beginning to wonder if the problem was something deeper. Dean, however, seemed to have no idea of what the man was trying to say. Dean Smith grew up, more or less, with a silver spoon in his mouth, being granted with a loving family and a well paying job that has given him the penthouse and privileges most people like you or Sam would be grateful for. And while he might not understand what Sam was talking about, a smaller part of him, seemed to try and empathize, wondering how it felt to be filled with uncertainty.

“I don’t believe in destiny.” Dean admitted, knowing there wasn’t much that he could say in order to contribute well enough into this conversation. “I do believe in dealing with what’s right in front of us, though.”

Sam let out a sigh from his new position of leaning against the wall that was next to the kitchen. For now, he knew your biggest problem was trying to figure out what was making all their co workers suddenly change into erratic behavior, and how they were going to get rid of this ghost that they’d stumbled upon back in the fourteenth floor. "All right. So, what do we do now?”

“We do what I do best, Sammy.” Dean said, pushing himself from the couch where he’d been sitting with you. You followed in suit, curious to see how all of you were going to solve this problem. “Research.”

You and Sam nodded your head in agreement, thinking that it would be the best logical step before rushing into a situation premature. As Dean headed off to his office to fetch some supplies to help further things along, it seemed that Sam caught a nickname he hadn’t heard since his youth. And when it came from a man he’d barely known, it seemed a bit strange. “Did you just call me 'Sammy’?” He asked the man, giving Dean a rather confused look. Dean returned the expression with a bit of surprise, wondering if he had let it slip by accident. Sam thought about it for a moment, his brow furrowed as he winced slightly at the awkwardness. Sammy reminded him of a chubby twelve year old boy. “I think you did. Yeah. Don’t.”

\+ + +

You cradled your head in the palm of your hand and tried to stare at the computer screen with interest. Research for a long period of time wasn’t your strong point, you dreaded it, if you had to be honest. But you buckled down and forced yourself to keep your undivided attention to the laptop screen, wondering if you would stumble upon anything that would be decent enough to crack open this mystery. You scrolled through an endless amount of websites that were pulled up after searching for ghost removal, whatever the hell that meant. On the first hour mark, you were starting to think about calling it quits, that was, until Dean stumbled upon something that seemed like it was the answer to all of your problems.

“Oh, jackpot! I just found the best site ever.” Dean said, breaking your attention away from your own computer screen. You peered over your shoulder to see that Dean was working at his desk from across the room while you and Sam sat at the dining room table. The expression on his face was enough to get you out of your seat and wander over, curious to see what he had discovered. “Real, actual ghost hunters. These are genius. Check it out.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and loomed over Dean’s shoulder, Sam crouched down and placed his hands on his knees to see more clearly. You noticed the website Dean had pulled up seemed like a legitimate about the paranormal and hunting. “Instructional videos?” You presumed, seeming interested to see what this was all about. Dean scrolled over and clicked the play button. “Hmm.”

The beginning of the video was just a black screen, all before there the logo for the website, properly calling themselves the Ghostfacers, flashed across the screen. A second later you were greeted with two men, from the names that were positioned next to them, the one standing on the left was named Harry Spengler, and his partner, Ed Zeddmore. Both of them were dressed in lab coats and standing behind a bulletin board that was collaged with different papers that seemed important. As the video furthered on, you kept your attention, honestly believing this could be informing.

“We know why you’re watching.” Ed began, putting down his pointer that he’d been facing to the camera before crossing his arms over his chest.

His partner, Harry, dramatically, took off his glasses to speak next. “You’ve got a problem.”

“A ghost problem.” Ed said, furthering the point along.

“A ghost-related problem. A-A ghost—it’s like a ghost-adjacent–it’s like a problem, and the ghost—” Harry accidentally found himself stumbling upon his point he branched off from his partner, not sure where he should end. Ed broke his gaze away from the camera to look at the man, clearly giving him a warning to stop bumbling like an idiot. Finally, Harry picked up the silent cues and fixed his glasses that were sliding down the bridge of his nose. “Whatever.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Ed said, furthering the video along. “The only decent place, really. Because the ghostfacers know how to solve it.”

“Period.”

“Watch and learn.”

“See, the first step in any supernatural fight…”

Harry and Ed spoke next in sync, even having a flash of text come across the screen, bringing you to the first step of how to solve this haunting. “Figure out what you’re up against.”

The beginning of the step, provided with some helpful pointers of the hunters, was to figure out who could be sticking around. It seemed like the best part to start off would be any strange deaths that occurred inside the building and branch your way out. It didn’t take long to figure out who could be still roaming the halls, a quick search later, all of you concluded from an old photograph of P.T. Sandover was the spirit you said earlier this night. He’d died in 1916 at the age of seventy-four, a man who was quoted be devoted his life to his work. No wife or kids, he used to say that he was the company and his very blood pumped through the building. Narcissistic and a workaholic at best, you presumed Sandover was staying long past his expiration date, watching over the company to make sure things were running smoothly.

“Plus, turns out this isn’t the first time people started killing themselves in the building.” You said. You sat at the dining room table with a few tabs open to different articles you stumbled upon while researching. With your full attention hooked on this situation, you found yourself more in focus, curious to see what else you could find. “1929—the crash.”

“Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off lots of high-rises that year.” Dean said with uncertainty

“How many companies had seventeen suicides?” You asked him.

Dean exhaled a deep breath from the information, knowing that well enough from such a high number, there was something definitely strange going on. “Okay, so, P.T. Sandover—protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress.”

“Well, I mean, the worst time we’ve seen since the great depression…” You trailed off, finding your focus had found itself back the article in front of you. Dean picked up your thought, knowing where you were going with this.

“Is now. My portfolio is in the sewer.“ Dean mumbled underneath his breath, seeming to find himself lost in thought from his own struggle due to the unexpected economic crisis unfolding around all of you. You looked over at Sam for a moment, while the both of you were at jobs that weren’t ideal, neither one of you could relate to Dean’s personal struggle. "I don’t even want to talk about it.”

“So,” You spoke up, bringing the conversation back to the topic that everyone was previously discussing. “Sandover’s helping the bottom line by zapping some model employees.”

“Yeah.” Sam agreed with you. You could see his expression change into a sullen one when he spoke of his coworkers that he worked more frequently with. You knew that he’d had a friendship with Ian too, making things become more perspective from the man’s unusual shift in behavior. “I mean, Ian and Paul—it was like he turned them into different people."employees.”

“Perfect worker bees.” Dean said, seeming to understand what was going on here. “So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed.”

“Wanna hear an interesting fact?” Sam asked to the both of you. He had been peering over your shoulder, reading what information that he could see from the previous article about Sandover himself. You looked away from Dean and cranked your neck upwards to make eye contact with him. “The building wasn’t always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, 1444—once upon a time, it used to be the old man’s office.”

With the new information all of you had, the rest of the video from the ghostfacers continued on as you huddled back around Dean’s desk, curious to find out more of how to stop these attacks. “Once you got that thing in your sight…kill it!” Your brow furrowed from the logic behind hurting a creature that already was dead. But you watched the video further on. “Using special ghost-hunting weapons. Ed picked up a canister with a sticker wrapped around it. and to demonstrate, he started to pour some out from the table that had previously been shown in the last shot. “First, salt.”

“It’s like acid to ghosts.” Harry explained for the reasoning. “Burny acid.”

“Not LSD.” Ed added on.

“No. It’s a bad trip for ghosts. Next up—iron.“ Harry continued on, giving an explanation of how the wrenched that you grabbed worked on the ghost. You noticed that he grabbed what appeared to be a fire poker from the table, pure iron from the rusty looking color. He attempted to swing it like a baseball bat for an example. "Pure power in your hand—dissipates ghosts instantly.”

“Next little trick—we learned this from those useless douche bags and their hot friend…” Ed muttered with a quiet tone, rolling his eyes in annoyance from just the thought. Harry joined in, adding of how they hated them. “The Winchesters.”

Harry picked up a shotgun from the the table, your face scrunched up at the sudden shift in weaponry you weren’t expecting to see. But as they furthered along the explanation, you were starting to understand how it might be useful in the presence of an angry spirit.

Ed held up a small plastic casing to the camera for the viewer to see. “Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt.” Both of them agreed that it was effective, repeating after one another as they look toward the camera, nodding their heads. It seemed they lingered away from topic for a moment, needing to clarify a disclaimer, again, that the people who told them this information were not so good friends of theirs.

“Winchesters and Y/L/N still sucks ass, though.” Harry said, prompting Ed to agree for a moment.

“Affirma—” Ed nodded his head to the camera, but when he heard another familiar name, he stopped and look at his partner. Dropping his voice to a low whisper, he gave a shrug at the mention of the last person. “Well, she’s not that bad…” Harry gave the man a cold stone glare, knowing well enough he didn’t like all three of them, not even her. Ed looked back at the camera. “Winchesters do suck. Suckage—major.”

Finding the supplies for iron and salt were pretty easy to find around Dean’s penthouse. There was a full container of salt in the kitchen cabinets a few iron pokers lying around near the fireplace that hadn’t been used in a while since spring was already blooming with warmer weather. The only struggle you and the boys stumbled upon was finding out where you could find a shotgun. None of you had one locked away, and even if you did, you weren’t sure if either one of you would be able to use one. You’d seen never seen a gun in real life, and honestly, you were terrified of them. You were happy to stick with what you had stuffed inside the duffel bag. With the supplies all bundled up, you went back to the video, curious to see if there was anymore information you might need before venturing off.

“The aforementioned super-annoying Winchesters douche-nozzles also taught us this one other thing.” Ed said, his mood seeming to change from the grim topic they were going to engage in. Him and Harry were now sitting at the table for their next segment in the video which might turn a few away, or even lead the cops knocking at their door from what they were suggesting.

“You have to burn the remains.” Harry explained the first part of this new segment. You felt your eyes widen slightly at what you were hearing, knowing it was partly disturbing to imagine yourself digging up a grave in the middle of the night, and how illegal this method was. All of you exchanged looks that were uneasy from what you were hearing, but when Harry spoke again, you diverted your attention back to the laptop screen. “Okay, this part gets a little gross. Sometimes…you might have to…dig up the body. Sorry.”

“It’s illegal in some states.”

“All states.”

“Possibly all states.”

This is where things became bitter sweet when you found out through a few minutes of research that Sandover was cremated. You were over the moon when you realized that you weren’t going to be breaking a half dozen laws to dig up some decomposed body that was crawling with maggots and all sorts of bugs, not to mention years of dust being locked away in the dirt and a coffin. You shuddered just at the thought. But when you realized that you couldn’t burn his body to ash, it brought you back to square one. All of you circled back to the video and hit the play button, hopeful the ghostfacers had stumbled across this, and lucky for you, they had a solution.

“Now, if the deceased has been cremated, don’t panic.” Harry reassured the viewer. “You just got to look for some other remains. Hair in a locket, maybe fingernails, baby teeth—” Ed, for some reason, mumbled baby teeth underneath his breath, making his partner stop explaining and look over at him for a moment, all before returning his gaze back to the camera. “Genetic material. You know what we’re talking about.”

“Go find it.”

“Fight well, young lions.”

\+ + +

With the new information and supplies in hand, you made a pitstop at your apartment to change into jeans and a blouse so you wouldn’t hurt yourself while you chased around a ghost in a dress paired with high heels. You made it back to the office a few minutes after the boys arrived after you fought off the cowardly attempt to back out of this situation that was finally hitting you. But it was the reminder that people, real and innocent souls, were dying because of an old spirit who was consumed with greed of his business, even past the grave, that needed to be stopped. You inhaled a deep breath to calm your nerves as you stepped inside the elevator to go back up to the fourteenth floor where you first saw Sandover’s spirit.

“Set your cellphone to walkie-talkie in case we get separated.” Dean instructed, pulling out his Blackberry from the clip that he had around his belt. You shoved your hand inside your back pocket to take out your phone, programming it as told.

“How the hell are we gonna find some ancient speak of DNA in a skyscraper?” Sam asked, suddenly realizing you had dozens of floors and countless offices to search for a little speck that would be keeping Sandover to haunt this very massive and intimidating building.

“Well, that creepy storeroom used to be Sandover’s office, right?” You reminded them. You reached out a hand and pushed the fourteenth floor button on the elevator keypad, watching as it turned red after being selected. “I say we start there.”

A few minutes later you and the boys were back in room 1444, looking exactly as how you left it a few hours ago, minus anyone in danger. All of you searched through the endless amount of stuff that had been piled up in here–old files that dated back to the early seventies, desks that were scratched up and collecting dust after being abandoned by the company, and the endless amount of broken monitors. You were deep into the room and occupying a shelf that was at least a foot taller than you, as you searched and ruffled through old documents, you didn’t notice that someone was lingering in the distance. You stood on your tippy toes and reached for a crate that was high on the top shelf, an unfamiliar voice coming from the front of the room made your head quickly snap to the side.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone break you out of your concentration. You found yourself ducking for cover behind another metal shelf before the security guard working the night shift would find you. Dean managed to take cover before he was found himself, Sam wasn’t so lucky. He was caught after staying near the open door and searching through one of the desks. While he tried to get himself out of this situation by stuttering out an excuse that he worked here with a friendly smile, the security guard wasn’t hearing it. “Whatever. Tell it to the cops.”

Your hands wrapped around the cold metal sides of the shelf as you peeked through the contents on the shelf to see Sam being hauled out of the room by the security guard. You felt guilty when the both of you made eye contact for a brief moment before the door was shut, leaving you and Dean to search alone. Sam could have easily ratted the both of you out, thankfully, he didn’t. Both of you exchange a look, unsure for a moment of what to do, thinking that Sam could handle himself, you got back to searching.

You took the spot back to where you were previously about to look through as Dean headed over to another side of the room, wondering what he could skim through. You managed to take down the heavy crate and drop it down to the table with a loud thud. Wincing slightly from the sound, you continued on your search, moving away folders that weren’t useful to you and papers that you couldn’t read in the dim light. You were soon coming to the bottom of the crate with nothing useful, but when you heard Dean quietly call out your name, you looked over to see that he was standing across from you at the end of the room, holding what appeared to be a photograph—and the key piece to solving this mystery.

\+ + +

Sam warned you not to take the elevator. You called him out of concern to see if he would answer you, and to your surprise, he did. You told him about the lead Dean had found and told him to meet the both of you on the twenty-second floor, he gave you a bit of friendly advice to take the stairs after he admitted to having a bit of a problem with them. You weren’t a personal fan of the idea of climbing eight flights of stairs, but you managed, you recovered your breaths that were forming away from heavy pants from the unexpected workout as you stood next to the mirage that you passed every morning on the way to your desk. The company’s name was spelled out on the wall along with a blown up picture of the bridge Sandover had funded to build, along with several photographs of the progress. You examined the collections for a few moments as you waited for Sam.

As you crossed your arms over your chest, you looked over your shoulder to see his tall frame come into view, you were happy to see that he’d came back safely after you heard the danger that he encountered. But you could feel your full attention being pulled to the blood splatter that was all across his shirt, along with small specs he’d missed after he tried wiping away the security guard’s blood after the poor man was ripped in half after he tried wiggling himself out of the elevator when it’d gotten stuck. Your mouth gaped open, Sam looked at you with a grim expression.

“Whoa. That’s a lot of blood.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Right.” Dean mumbled quietly. He swallowed as he took one glance at the disheveled man’s appearance before bringing everyone’s attention to the small glass display that held two leather gloves. “So, uh, in there. P.T. Sandover’s gloves. How much you want to bet there’s a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair of two. Something.”

You let out a breath as you looked at the men, “So, you ready?“

"I have no idea.” Dean admitted after a small pause of silence.

“Me neither.” Sam added on, he gave you both a side smile, showing off his dimple. You returned the friendly gesture before he bent down to the duffel bag that was sitting at your feet on the floor, as he grabbed two of the iron rods for him and Dean, you managed the canister of salt. You stared at the glass display. If you remembered from the video, all you had to do was burn the gloves the ghost should be gone. Sam looked over at Dean, deciding to give the other man the honors. “Go for it.”

Dean gripped the iron rod tightly and licked his lips, for the silence that had fallen between the three of you was destroyed when he went swinging into the glass, making an echo of something shattering rumble through the empty halls. For a moment you thought this was easy, almost too easy. And just when the thought crossed your mind, you could feel a sudden shift in temperature, your exhale had turned into a puff of fog. Your last thought with your two feet still on the ground was that couldn’t have been a good sign. Sandover had found out what you and the boys were trying to do—and he wasn’t too pleased.

Before you realized what was going on, you could feel yourself being flung backwards like you were nothing more than a ragdoll. You landed across the room and into the wooden paneling that sent a sharp pain through your entire body as it knocked the wind right out of your lungs. The salt container fell from your grip, but it remained close as the boys were subjected to the same punishment. Sam was flung to the wall right behind him as Dean’s forehead was bashed into the wall. You pushed yourself into a sitting position fast as you could when you noticed Sandover set his cold glare on you first. You pressed your backside against the wall when you were taken back in fear, not sure what to do. But it seemed you already knew. Your eyes drifted to the salt container that was only a few inches from your grip, and before you knew it, you reached for the blue container. You quickly lunged forward and threw a heavy dose of salt at Sandover, making a heavy dose fall upon his body. You let out a heavy sigh of relief when he disappeared into a cloud of smoke, letting you slip from almost being attacked.

It seemed your skills hadn’t gone unnoticed, you looked upward to see that Dean was on his feet, beside the small gash on his forehead, he was staring at you with a grin, impressed at what you’d done. As your lips were stretching into a smile for yourself, it dropped just a second later when you realized Sandover was back, and he was standing behind Dean. Sam warned the man as he tossed the iron rod at Dean, who easily caught it. Dean turned around and swung right at the spirit, making him drift back into a puff of black smoke. When the ghost disappeared, Dean stood there for a moment, cautiously looking around to see if Sandover would come back. When he realized what he’d done, Dean turned around to you and Sam, he couldn’t help himself but let out a nervous laugh at what he’d done that felt so natural to him.

You pushed yourself to your feet when you felt the pain subside, Sam followed suit and grabbed the iron rod that Dean had dropped. As you settled your attention for a brief moment on the leather gloves, it was quickly pulled away when you noticed Sandover was back, and standing right in between the obvious men. “Guys!” You warned them. You directed a finger out at the ghost that was standing across from you. Both of them took a swing at the spirit, making him disappear once more.

But Sandover was just getting started for all of you. You blinked, there he was again, standing behind Dean again, who promptly took a swing after he noticed Sam’s look. Sandover disappeared before the man had a chance. Everything after that happened so fast before you could warn them. With both men standing with their backs turned, Sandover popped in the middle. The spirit easily threw Sam against the wall where a light fixture had laid. You winced at the crashing noises, Dean was next after that. You didn’t see him get through all the way across the hall, all you knew was that he’d disappeared from your sight, and Sandover marked him as his victim. Your eyes widened when the spirit pressed his index finger and thumb together, igniting some kind of electricity. When you realized that Sam and Dean were in mortal danger, you were overcome with protectiveness—this sheer willpower to burn those gloves was the only thing on your mind, along with the mantra to keep Dean safe.

You ignored the shards of glass on the floor when you skidded across the tiled floors to grab the lighter that someone had dropped. Flicking open the lighter, you grabbed the dirty leather gloves and roughly tried to ignite a flame, after a few times, you finally got friction. Holding the leather over the lighter, you watched as the gloves caught fire, you dropped them to the ground when they slowly started to burn into ash due to their age. You stepped away from the burning debris as you headed to the hall, peeking over to see if Sandover was there, but instead, all you saw was Dean propped up against the wall. He was a bit out of it, but beside that, he seemed all right. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a sigh of relief from what you’d accomplished. Turning your head, you noticed that Sam was back on his feet, and now standing next to you. Both of the men stared at each other for a moment, all before they were breaking out into a grin from what just happened.

“That was amazing!” Sam exclaimed.

“Right?” Dean asked with a hearty laugh.

You let out a small chuckle from their happiness as you walked forward to Dean to help him up from the ground. A job well done meant the three of you could stitch up your battle wounds, and figure out what the hell just happened. And why it felt so familiar to you.

\+ + +

You could feel an ache settling into your body when you dropped yourself to the comforting leather seat beside Dean’s desk, you lifted up your legs slightly to see small droplets of blood staining your jeans around your kneecaps after you fell into the debris of broken glass like an idiot. But if you hadn’t tried to save the day, all of you wouldn’t be back in Dean’s office to celebrate the victory of a job well done. You glanced over at Sam, who was sitting at the edge of the desk, both of you made eye contact for a brief moment, a matching set of smiles spread across your lips. You looked away a brief second later when Dean circled back around from the opposite of his desk after fetching a first aid kit from the cabinet on the lower bottom he’d rarely used. Considering that he’d gotten an abrasion on his forehead and Sam was covered in someone else’s blood, it was deemed proper to bring it out.

“Man, I gotta tell you, I’ve never had so much fun in my life.” Dean admitted to the both of you as he took a spot on the edge of his desk next to Sam. You agreed with a nod of the head as you brushed your hand over your knee, feeling the dull throb of pain after you crossed your legs together underneath the chair. “It was hell of a workout, too, wasn’t it?”

Dean chuckled to himself at his remark as he opened up the first aid kit, he pulled out a alcohol wipe for himself and handed one out for the both of you. As you graciously take the wipe, you keep yourself busy for a moment by ripping open the package, but your attention is pulled away when Sam speaks up. “We should keep doing this.” Sam suggests, prompting Dean to chuckle again and nodding his head when he doesn’t give it much thought from what the other man was trying to say. “I mean it. There’s got to be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people.”

“Yeah, right.” Dean said, not seeming to believe the man was serious. “We’d be like the ghostfacers.”

“No, really.” Sam pushed forward with his suggestion, making you look up from the wounds you were tending to. The expression in his face and the genuine seriousness in his eyes made you stop, wondering where he was going with this plan that was pulled out from the blue. “I mean…for real.”

“What? Quit our jobs and hit the road?” Dean questioned the man with a baffled tone, he let out a laugh from the idea. Sam didn’t change his serious expression, and you were quietly staring, showing no protests about how ridiculous this idea sounded. “How would we live? Come on. You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by—with stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?”

“That’s all just details.” You said, finding yourself arguing for the good of this crazy plan.

“Details are everything, Y/N! You don’t want to go fighting ghosts without any health insurance.” Dean said. He was being the logical one here, poking holes into this master idea of quitting the normal life you’d grown too comfortable of. Part of you suddenly craved to taste the adventure and danger you’d witnessed not too long ago for how familiar it felt. It made you feel like there was an empty hole you never knew was there until you fought that spirit. You tore your gaze away from the man from his points that were too to argue with, you settled your attention on the nighttime view of the office lights still on in the buildings around the city at this hour.

Sam couldn’t help himself anymore withholding information that was too important. You looked over at him when you heard the man clear his throat, directing your attention, slightly growing curious for what he was about to say. “All right. Uh…confession.” He mumbled with a bit of nervousness in his tone. You furrowed your brow, wondering what he was going to admit. “Remember those dreams I told you about, with the ghosts? I was fighting them.”

Your body stiffened at the confession you weren’t expecting to hear from the man. Over the past few days you’d been having a strange feeling that had been following you around like a black cloud, you weren’t sure what it meant, but you had a feeling you weren’t alone anymore. You narrowed your eyes at the man and nodded your head slowly for him to continue on speaking. “Okay.”

“With you two.” Sam went on, getting a mixture of different reactions. Your eyes widened ever so slightly more, Dean stared at the man with a baffled expression, unsure of what he was hearing. But it didn’t stop Sam from finishing his confession that he needed to get out. “We were, these, like…hunters. And we were friends.” He admitted with a heavy sigh, and as he looked over at Dean once more, he knew there was a deeper connection between the both of them that wasn’t the same as you. “More like brothers, really.”

You leaned back in your seat, wondering why this idea didn’t seem so strange to you. Sam and Dean had come from the opposite sides of life from what it seemed like it. But you had to admit, they shared the smallest in resemblances that was making you look at them with a closer eye. While the both of them didn’t look like family, you couldn’t help yourself but think they looked almost alike, from their handsome features that were slightly similar and yet different at the same time, not to mention their height. You didn’t know why you suddenly thought of your old family friends, John and Mary. Maybe because each of them looked so damn alike to the old married couple, despite the fact they were childless and never mentioned ever regretting their personal decision. It was starting to scare you from what your brain was coming up. You wanted to believe it was just some story to help cope with the danger you put yourself through, but you knew that was a fat lie.

“What if that’s who we really are?” You found yourself asking them, wondering if that could explain the strange dreams you were having yourself. But it wasn’t just ghosts that you dreamt about, there were other creatures that you couldn’t explain. “I mean, you saw us back there, working together. T-The ghost was scrambling people’s brains. What if it scrambled ours?”

“That’s insane.” Dean mumbled. He brushed off the accusation as he pushed himself to his feet, you watched as he circled back to behind his desk, where he sat against the wooden cabinet he’d used as for files and displays of his lifetime achievements.

“Is it?” Sam questioned the man. “Think about it for just one second. Maybe Y/N’s onto something here. What if we think this is our life…but it’s not?”

“Hey, man, the ghost is dead and we’re still standing.” Dean said, trying to get the both of you to focus back to the victory that was in front of us. He would say just about anything to get the conversation from the crazy, conspiracy theory filled one that was going on right now. “I mean, I’m sorry, but—”

"Look,” Sam snapped at the man, cutting him off mid-sentence. He jumped up from his spot on the desk and turned around to face Dean. “All I know is, this isn’t who we’re supposed to be.”

“No. I’m Dean Smith, okay?” Dean argued with the man, trying to set things straight for how he saw them. “Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father’s name is Bob, my mother’s name is Ellen, and my sister’s name is Jo.”

“When’s the last time you talked to them?” Sam asked a strange question, prompting you to think about that one for a second as Dean stared at the man like he’d grown a second head. “To any of them?”

“Okay. You’re upset.” Dean said, trying to calm down the man as he pushed himself to his feet once more again. “You’re upset, you’re confused—”

"Yeah. I only moved here ‘cause I broke up with my fiancee, Madison.” Sam confessed, his tone rising in his frustration. You suddenly wondered why the name sounded so familiar to you, but still, you couldn’t put a finger on it. And it was making you angry, not to mention scared out of your mind. “But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital.”

“Okay, what are you saying?” Dean questioned the man in a frustrated and strained voice. “Y-You trying to say that—that my family isn’t real? Huh? That we’ve been injected with fake memories? Come on!”

“All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know—I know that, deep down, you guys got to be feeling it, too.” Sam spoke up again, with a quieter volume this time. He waited a moment to see if he could change anyone’s mind, but Dean stood stood across from him with the same smile on his face like the man was insane as he shook his head. You stood there quiet and crossed your arms over your chest, keeping whatever private thoughts of what you were holding to yourself. Sam looked over at you, almost pleading at you to say something, all you did was turn your gaze away. “We’re supposed to be something else. You’re not just some corporate douche bag. And you’re not a stupid assistant. This isn’t you. I know you two.”

“Know me?” You found an insult at his words for the life that you built for yourself. You furrowed your brow in anger when he looked at you like you’d known him for more than just two days. In the back of your mind, you wanted to believe this Sam Wesson. You always had a feeling you weren’t exactly all here, that there was something missing in your life. Hunting that spirit had changed that for you, filled that little gap in your life you didn’t know was there. But you weren’t the one to take risks and stray far from the safe bubble you’d grown to love. You knew that if you went along with this plan and put all of your trust in this Sam, nothing good would happen. No matter how much you ached to say yes. You knew it was the wrong thing to do. “You don’t know me, pal.”

Sam fell silent from the words that you spat at him with an aggravated tone. You stood there with your hands to your side and stared at him, watching as the hurt and defeat settle into his eyes. You let out a quiet breath when Dean decided to speak up, breaking the tension you had built. “You should go.” He suggested to Sam, thinking it would be the right thing to do. Sam moved his gaze between the both of you for a few seconds, hopeful that either one of you would speak up and change your damn minds, but you stood there with a cold glare in your expression while Dean’s gaze drifted off to the window. With a heavy sigh, Sam did what he was told, he walked out of the door and disappeared from sight.

You stood there in a moment, unsure if you should follow through like Sam. The time on the clock was reading about midnight, which was way past the time you normally went to bed. You realized that the both of you stood had to work in a few hours, and suddenly, the reality of your life that you hadn’t thought about in a few hours hit you like a ton of bricks. You moved your hands to your hips and muffled a yawn that threatened to come from your mouth when Dean finally turned away from the window and to look over at you, probably getting ready to kick you out too. You looked at him to make your goodbyes for the night, your attention was quickly pulled away when you noticed his abrasion on his forehead wasn’t healing nicely. You caught sight of another trickle of blood making way down his skin, going unnoticed from Dean.

“Oh. Let me help you.” You mumbled with a soft tone. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion from what you were talking about, that was until he slowly reached up a hand to feel the blood that was running down his forehead. You dove into the medical kit to fetch a bandaid and another alcohol wipe to disinfect the wound. “Take a seat. I don’t mind, really.”

Dean listened to your command as he took a seat back on the cabinet as you came forward with the supplies. You gave him a bashful smile when you came into his personal space, you were suddenly overcome with nervousness as you ripped open the package to the wipe and set it down next to him. You took out the small cloth and reached up to wipe away the blood, putting your attention forward, you focused on the small abrasion and blood. As you inched closer to his wound to clean it properly, Dean flinched as he softly swore underneath his breath from the unexpected sting. You quickly pulled away and mumbled an apology, directing your gaze upwards to his, making you suddenly realize how close you were to him.

You froze, part out of the awkwardness that you weren’t expecting from being almost a few inches from his face, and because you were suddenly memorized by his facial features you’d never noticed before. You were always drawn towards Dean’s shade of green eyes, but from where you were, they seemed different, maybe because from his angle you could make out the crinkles and the dark circles that were starting to form from the long night he was putting himself through. Or the wash of very light freckles you could barely see around his upper cheekbones and nose. Your gaze dropped down to the lips, the lips that you constantly found yourself staring at for when Dean talked. They seemed so soft and…and plush. It took you a solid few seconds to realize of what you were doing, and how uncomfortable you were making your boss, the man who payed you to be professional and remain discreet. You quickly looked at him straight in the eye, nearly praying that he didn’t figure out what you were doing.

“I’m so—”

Before you could apologize, you were cut off from something unexpected. You could feel your eyelids fluttering close when you felt a pair of lips that you’d previously been staring at dive themselves right onto yours. Dean seemed to have been sharing the same feelings as yours. He couldn’t help himself anymore, through weeks of keeping himself professional, he suddenly couldn’t control his emotions anymore when you gotten near him, letting him take in the closer details of your face and inhale the spritz of perfume you’d put on before leaving your apartment after changing clothes. He found himself suddenly overcome with familiarity of your lips against his as he moved his hand away from the cabinet to cradle the back of your head. Dean’s fingers wove themselves into your hair, allowing him to push you closer to him, suddenly he didn’t want to let you go. It wasn’t that you were showing any signs of protests. You rested your hands against his chest as your fingers slowly inched into the center, your fingers resting on top of the buttons of his shirt as they began to lightly poke inbetween the gaps, suddenly craving to touch his skin underneath. Unfortunately the need to breathe caught up to the both of you, making you break away.

If only reality couldn’t have caught up for what you had just done, you would have kissed him back. Your mind was swimming in euphoria for a moment at what you’d been silently craving to do, for a man like Dean Smith had been making your mind go wild. You looked at him again with a small smile spreading across your lips, you could feel the mood being slowly ruined, that feeling of familiarity, like you’d done this before. The dreams you’d been having were becoming clear now. It made you realize that you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. Sam was right about this entire situation. You had a different path, you had a different connection with Dean. It made you happy, scared, furious, and all around, safe. But with all the emotions running through your mind, you quickly pulled away from him, suddenly in the need to leave so you could think straight.

This time you managed to mumble an apology as you backed away from him. Dean stared at you with worry, unsure if what he did was wrong. He still didn’t get it. You gave him a crooked smile as you whispered a goodnight to him, and before he could respond, you were rushing out of the office and to the elevators quick as you could before he could follow behind. You found the routine trip to your car seemed long and tedious, but when you managed to get yourself the parking lot, you fumbled out your keys before you shoved them into the lock. You sat down in the Impala and let out a deep breath you hadn’t known you were holding until now. You leaned back in your seat and closed your eyes, hopeful the silence that engulped your hearing would help soothe your racing mind. It didn’t.

You were overcome with different thoughts, like you didn’t belong in this seat, you wanted to be in the back…with Dean and the wheel and Sam in the passenger side. You opened up your eyes and let out the faintest sigh from the weird thoughts that were creeping into your mind. For a second you thought it was just because Sam was rambling on about being hunters and traveling the states to search for more evil. But as your head cranked to examine the backseat, you found yourself drifting off in thought that seemed almost like a memory that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You found yourself almost living through a fictional memory of being in the backseat with Dean, sharing an intimate moment that was passionate and romantic, making you feel of how you did when you lost your virginity. You furrowed your brow at the strange thought. Dean wasn’t your first love, you barely knew him less than a month. Or so you made yourself believe. Shaking your head, you forced yourself to start the car and pull out of the nearly empty parking lot, itching for a hot shower and a shot of whisky to help you sleep tonight.

\+ + +

The next morning you make yourself pretend like nothing happened. You woke up at the sound of your alarm going off and gotten ready with the barely three hours of sleep you managed to get after tossing and turning for most of the night, your thoughts of what was the right thing to do. You somehow managed to get yourself dressed in an outfit you picked while still half-asleep and covered up the dark circles best you could before you faced Dean. For the first few hours of the day you managed to go on like it was another Friday, both of you anticipating the weekend, forty eight hours away from one another. You didn’t see Sam when you made your rounds around the office to collect and disrupt important documents. It was around noon when you were going to take your hour long lunch when the feeling hit you like a ton of bricks, and this time, you couldn’t fight or bury it anymore.

What the hell were you doing with your life? You were sitting in an office building that once was being haunted by a malevolent spirit that you helped put to rest so nobody could become harmed anymore. Maybe Sam was right about there being other cases, and how you could help people. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, really. Maybe if you got to know him a bit better you and him could start looking into some activity. Maybe become like the ghostfacers, only better. You stopped in the middle of the hallway you were walking in with your purse in your hand, you gave your coworker, who had been holding the door for you, an apologetic wave and smile. You weren’t going to lunch. No, you were going to march into Dean’s office and do what you knew what the right thing to do was.

You weren’t the type to change your life dramatically like this. It was a month since you settled yourself into a perfect routine that seemed comforting and safe, you always thought the rest would fall into place. A nervous excitement rushed through your body as you made it back to Dean’s office door that was shut. You stood outside for a second to give yourself a deep breath before you were swinging the door wide open, thinking that Dean was getting some work done in private. As you opened your mouth to announce your news, you stopped dead in your tracks, who you saw sitting in the chair right across from Dean’s desk was Mr. Adler, the head corporate manager that overlooked the entire Ohio operation. You could feel yourself responding to the intrusion between him and Dean with a blush settling into your cheeks, your lips forced themselves into a smile.

"Y/N,” Dean was pulled out from his thoughts after he spent a moment looking at the piece of paper with an insane possible salary being held in his hands. You stand in the doorway, suddenly unsure if you should leave. He’d been trying to keep things professional between the both of you, even though it was starting to kill him. “I thought you went to lunch. Everything all right?”

“I wanted to discuss something with you first. But since I see you have company,” You looked over at Mr. Adler, who was politely sitting there in silence with a smile on his lips. You could feel the confidence you had built a second ago burst like a bubble. “It doesn’t matter. I can some back later.”

Dean shakes his head and waves a hand for you to stay, knowing that it would be best if you heard this. You watch as he takes out his earpiece and settles it down on the desk, something that he only does until closing. He slides over the piece of paper with the dream salary over to Mr. Adler, and announces some news that he thought would never come out of his mouth. “Thank you, sir. It’s um, very generous. But…I am giving my notice.”

The news sends a wave of shock through your body from the change of heart Dean had. Mr. Adler looks at the man with widening eyes, disappointment settles into his expression. “This is a joke. You’re kidding me, right?” He asks, almost pleading with the man.

“No. I recently—uh, very recently—realized that I have some other work I have to do.” Dean tried to explain himself best as he could. He would be lying to himself if he said last night with you and Sam had been one of the best and exciting times in his life. And he realized that he couldn’t go on with his life without it. You could see his eyes linger over at you for a moment, all before he looked over at his boss. “It’s uh, very important to me.”

“Other work?” Mr. Adler questioned the man. “Another company?” 

“No, I—it’s hard to explain.” Dean said. He found himself trailing off for a moment, wondering what kind of words he could use to somehow make the man sitting across from him understand the dilemma he was put through over the past several hours. Dean found himself lifting up his silk, and very expensive, tie and running his fingers delicately over the fabric. Normally he would have found joy in the designer clothes he was able to afford, but today he felt out of character. “It’s just that this…this is, it’s just, it’s not who I’m supposed to be.”

The room fell into silence from the confession that nobody was expecting to hear, not even to Dean Smith himself. But the man sitting across from him didn’t protest or ask questions, instead, he let out a chuckle, suddenly seeming amused from the situation that had unfolded, like he was expecting it. You found yourself furrowing your brow in confusion from his reaction. “Dean, Dean, Dean.” He whispered with a growing smile. “Finally.” With the snap of his fingers, everything went back to normal, bringing you out from what felt like a deep slumber.

You opened your eyes, expecting to see the white walls of the hospital room you’d grown familiar to, but when you were drawn from a hazy feeling like you were dreaming, your new surroundings made your senses sharp with caution. You were standing in the doorway of someone’s office building with a serious ache in your lower back, not to mention you were wearing a dress that was too tight on you. Furrowing your brow once more, you looked straight over at Dean, who was sitting at the head of the desk, looking like you’d never seen him before in your entire life. The man was dressed in a tailored suit and his hair wasn’t the way he’d always done it. He looked like some corporate douche bag, someone he would never be. And it seemed from the look on his face, Dean was baffled about what was going on, and how the both of you ended up here.

“What the hell? Why am I wearing a tie?” He mumbled to himself, subconsciously glancing down at the pale blue tie. But the thought was distracted when he heard a faint grumble come from his stomach. He suddenly was craving a nice, juicy cheeseburger with a few beers to wash it all down. It felt like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. “My God, am I hungry.”

“Welcome back, kids.” You looked over at the man that was standing closer to you, suddenly you realized what was going on, and not a second later Dean was pushing himself to his feet.

“Wait. Did we,” Dean looked at the stranger with a skeptical look as he pointed a finger at the man. “Did I just get touched by—you’re an angel, aren’t you?”

“I’m Zachariah.” He introduced himself, you rolled your eyes in pure frustration.

“Oh, great.” You hissed underneath your breath. “That’s all we need, is another one of you guys.”

“I’m hardly 'another one,’ Y/N. I’m Castiel’s superior.” Zachariah corrected you, ignoring the deathly glare you were giving him from your position across the room. You weren’t exactly pleased to be in the same room as someone with the creatures that put you through Hell, and now, you didn’t know what was going on. Every single time you crossed path with an angel, things never ended for the better. “Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here and into one of these smelling things. But after the unfortunate…situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit—get my ducks in a row.”

“I am not one of your ducks.” Dean snarled at the angel.

Zachariah narrowed his eyes at the man, “Starting with your attitude.”

“Oh, so, what? This—This was some sort of lesson? Perhaps a nice little vacation from what you put us through.” You said, speaking up once more with a sarcastic and aggravated tone of voice you weren’t afraid to use on the angel. Your feet were absolutely killing you from wearing heels longer than you were used to, but it seemed your new persona was into heels for the pure fashion sense of it. Maybe that’s why you were lashing out, maybe you were just pissed off at this whole ordeal that kept getting worse. “Is that what you’re telling me? Well, very creative.”

“You should see my decoupage.” Zachariah’s response made you look at him a bit funny.

“Gross.” Dean mumbled. “No, thank you.”

“So, what,” You found yourself staring at Dean for a split second before giving your full attention back to Zachariah. We were just hallucinating all of this? Is that it?“

"Not at all, Y/N. Real place, real haunting.” Zachariah explained to the both of you. The angel folded his hands behind his back and began to walk around the room. “Just plunked the three of you in the middle without the benefit of your memories.”

“Just to shake things up? Hmm?” Dean asked the man. “So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass-clowns in—in monkey suits?”

“To prove to you that the path you’re on is truly in your blood, Dean. You’re a hunter. Not because your dad made you. Not because God called you back from Hell. But because it is what you are. And you love it. You’ll find your way to it in the dark every single time, and you’re miserable without it.” Zachariah praise the man. All though Dean didn’t take the compliment, instead, he stood there with an eye roll to show only the fraction of the frustration he was feeling right now. “Dean, let’s be real here–you’re good at this. You’ll be successful. You will stop it.”

“Stop what?” Dean found himself suddenly at his breaking point from the loose plans he was constantly hearing from the angels. He questioned the one in front of him, demanding any sort of answer that would help guide him to a clear path they wanted him on to clean up the mistakes he’d made. “The apocalypse, huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man!”

“You’ll do everything you’re destined to do. All of it.” Zachariah answered him with the most transparent response. Dean looked at him, his glare hardening. “But I know, I know. You’re not strong enough. You’re scared. You got daddy issues. You can’t do it, right?”

“Angel or not,” You threatened Zachariah in a calm tone. “I will stab you in your face.”

Zachariah cracked a smile, as if you made a joke. “All I’m saying is…it’s how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things, Dean, save people. Maybe even the world.” He went on with his speech, as if his words were going to touch the true Dean inside, the one who was scared and desperate to turn away from the problem he started. “All the while, you drive a classic car and try to make a broken relationship work. This isn’t a curse—it’s a gift. So, for God’s sakes, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around. There are plenty fates worse than yours.”

Dean subconsciously glanced around the office building that he spent an entire month pretending to be someone that he wasn’t. You stood near the doorway, drawing his attention to the silver name plate that seemed like a nightmare. After a moment, he found himself glancing back over at Zachariah when the angel spoke up again. "So, you with me? Or you want Y/N to go and steam you another latte?” The question made Dean scoff and you roll your eyes from taking another command, Zachariah was happy at the response. “Or are you ready to stand up…and be who you really are.”

You weren’t sure how you liked Zachariah. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that was making you hesitant to believe anything he was saying. Most of the angels you met weren’t what you hoped for. They were cold and meticulous of how things should be done. And after you were put through, you weren’t exactly throwing your arms up and embracing what he was selling. But you didn’t have the fate of the world on your shoulders like how Dean did. So you kept yourself quiet, hopeful you had encountered an angel that wanted to solve the problem that would help humanity. Still, deep down, you couldn’t quite believe it, thinking there was something else going on here nobody was telling you about.


	18. The Monster at the End of This Book.

Y/N stood with one high heel in the pavement and the other sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, her attention in full view of the rundown comic bookstore with its friendly red neon sign flashing the word ‘Open’ every few seconds to welcome customers. She slammed the car door of the beloved 1967 Chevy Impala and breathed in the early Spring air that smelt like fumes from the exhaust and the fresh crisp air she’d loved since a child. This time of year with cloudless blue skies and warming temperatures filled her with happiness with a new season approaching. Over the past several months her life has seemed like an endless season of winter, with its bitter temperatures that reflected her relationships and the shortened days of sunshine with her once blossoming life that seems to and the short days of light that had filled her with hope, only for the long nights of darkness to pull her back down to the pit. But she reminded herself that winter never lasts forever.

No matter how long winter may drag on long pasts it date, the cycle of life would come back again, the plants pulled itself from the cold grips of Mother Nature and it would rebuild itself once more. As a child, Y/N would pass her mother’s garden everyday to see the flowers and the trees she climbed in her playground youth would blossom once more, with its hues of rich green leaves to give shade for when the blistering sun would arrive in the summer and pretty flowers as a centerpiece she would pick for the dining room table. And just like nature, she could feel herself, every so slowly, begin to shake off the nightmares of her time in Hell.

Flicking a piece of hair out of her face from a gust of wind, Y/N peered her head over to see the brothers, Sam and Dean, dressed in the respective clothing of cheap suits to play the contentious role of fake FBI agents. Y/N pushed her other foot to the sidewalk and pulled down her skirt after the fabric riled up from sitting in the backseat after overlooking the police files during the trip here from the motel. She was sort of giddy to be back in the swing of things with her boys. Not that a murder of an innocent bystander made her happy. It was the thought of knowing that she was away from angels and demons that made her break into the faintest smile at the ends of her lips when the brothers weren’t looking as they got themselves out of the car, the smile disappeared when she heard the squeaky car doors slam shut. Y/N would take a salt and burn, even participate in digging up a corpse, if it meant she didn’t see black eyes or an angel from above.

The brothers started first to the comic bookstore with Y/N following behind, her heels, which gave her at least a few inches in height, clicked against the sidewalk as she stepped inside the building after Dean, her chivalrous partner, kept the door open for her, making him the last inside. Y/N skimmed the bookstore to see the place was more rundown looking than it seemed from the outside. Every inch of the place was covered with shelves of comics and graphic novels she didn’t recognize outside from the familiar superheros she’d grown up knowing from the famous DC and Marvel universe. The place wasn’t booming with customers, she spotted only two, who were engrossed with reading the latest issue of a comic book, to see three strangers step inside their safe haven. Nobody paid much attention to each other much attention as the brothers and Y/N stepped forward to the counter when they noticed the worker peered up from his graphic novel to see what was going on. The man furrowed his brow in confusion when he noticed the formal wear that stood out from the Star Wars and badly matched button up shirts he’d seen.

“Uh,” The owner placed down his paperback novel to the counter, his chubby hands covered the characters on the cover, seeming almost embarrassed at the content he was reading. He gave the three strangers standing in front of him a look, starting a conversation to figure out what was going on. “Can I help you?”

“Sure hope so.” Y/N spoke with a friendly enough tone as she kept the faint smile at the ends of her lips. She reached inside the pocket of her skirt and pulled out the badge she’d used too many times to count. Showing it to the owner, the brothers held up their own fake IDs that were concealed in leather cases for the man to inspect for a few moments, but not enough to figure out if it was real or not. “I’m Agent Franklin, and these are my partners, DeYoung and Shaw. We just need to ask you a few questions.“

"Notice anything strange in the building, last couple of days?” Sam asked the first set of questions, doubtful the answer would change from the previous owners he’d spoken to yesterday night after arriving into town. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place, drifting his attention to yet another hunt, where it would be a distraction to the bigger picture everyone was trying to ignore, except for him. For days Sam had kept his personal thoughts to himself, knowing the victory of ridding one demon from their path should have been good enough for Sam to focus, but he couldn’t stop thinking about another demon, the one he’d been itching to face for almost an entire year since that fateful night that seemed like forever ago. But the time wasn’t right.

Sam was pulled out from his thoughts when he heard the owner speak up, not exactly sure what they were looking for. “Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights.” Dean said, furthering the conversation along, and subtly dropping hints that might help explain if this was the type of situation they should be keeping their focus on.

“Uh,” The owner paused for a moment, “I don’t think so. Why?”

“What about noises?” Y/N questioned the man. “Any skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?”

The owner looked at Y/N with a funny expression, the kind she’d seen too many times in the past years of hunting. It was the scrunched forehead that produced wrinkles in the man’s skin as he furrowed his brow harder. “And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?” He asked back. Dean glanced down at the ground when he’d felt a twitch at the end of his lips, almost like it was demanding a smirk from the dumbfounded tone he heard from the owner.

“What about cold spots?” Y/N pressed further, suddenly desperately hoping that he would answer the questions she wanted answered. She wanted the satisfaction knowing she’d gotten another case, but as Sam silently stood to her right, he had a feeling this wasn’t turning out be the thing they’d thought it would be. “Feel any sudden drops in temperature?”

“I knew it!” The owner exclaimed, shifting his expression and the conversation between the four people. Y/N and the brothers stood there for a moment, drawing the same baffled expression just as the man sitting before them had from their strange questions. “You guys are LARPing, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Dean asked.

“You’re fans.” The man said, Y/N furrowed her brow.

“Fans of what?”

“What is LARPing?”

The brothers cautiously asked their questions one after another as Y/N stood silent, unsure of what was going on. The man broke out into a smile, “Like you don’t know.” Still, the three didn’t break away from their confused expressions. “Live-action-role-playing. And pretty hardcore, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N apologized to the man, “We have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re asking questions like the building’s haunted. Like those guys and girl from that book. What are they called? Uh…‘Supernatural.’” The man said, remembering the title of the book series he was referencing to. Y/N raised a brow, giving him a look to reiterate the thought more when she had no idea what he was talking about. “Two guys and a girl, use fake I.D.s with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Y/N, that I’m sure of. I always forget the guys’ names. Was it…Steve and Dirk? Uh, Sale and Dane?”

“Sam and Dean?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet as a mouse.

“That’s it!” The man said, he snapped his fingers in victory.

Y/N and the boys exchanged a glance, all three of them were unsure what was going on. It was like their last adventure all over again, but this time, they had a feeling it wasn’t a memory planted into their brain from an angel, for this was about to become very real to them. “You’re saying this is a book?” Dean asked, the words falling out his mouth seemed cautious.

“Books. It was a series. Didn’t sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground-cult following.” The man said, explaining some details. Y/N found herself speechless for words, somehow finding her thoughts were drifting away from the hunt she’d hoped for all along. Her eyes followed over to the bargain bin that was not too far from where she’d been standing for the man was heading over, and a second later, he was skimming the paperbacks until he plucked out the one he’d been looking for. “Let’s see. Um…Ah, yeah. That’s the first one, I think.”

With a hesitant hand, Y/N reached for the paperback from the man’s grip and looked at the front cover to examine the detail, her heartbeat all while pounded against her ribcage. The front cover seemed like one of the raunchy romance novels she’d passed in the bookstore. Her eyebrows tightly woven together when she caught sight of what was two men; one was in the near distance with his shirt off with his shaggy brown hair blowing in the wind, the other man stood near the spine of the book dressed in a black sleeveless tank. Y/N’s attention was drew forward to the woman that was next to a black car, of a model that seemed familiar. Almost too familiar. The drawing of the woman had Y/N’s same hair color, same everything. Out of sheer curiosity, Y/N flipped to the backside to read what the hell this book was all about. Each word she read made her Y/E/C eyes grow wider in the anxiety that was filling up in her veins. This was supposed to be a salt and burn, Y/N bitterly thought to herself. This was supposed to be a damn case. She dug her nails into the book in her flustered anxiety that was turning into anger.

“‘Supernatural’ by Carver Edlund.” Y/N read out loud, her eyes flickering upwards for a brief moment, all before she directed her attention to the summary. “Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious Woman in White lures men to their deaths…“ A terrifying phenomenon that may be Sam and Dean’s first clue to their father’s whereabouts. With the help of their childhood best friend, they embark on a quest that will change their lives forever. Y/N blinked a few times, trying to figure out why the room was suddenly feeling blistering hot. She tugged at the collar of her blouse, giving no fight or protest when Sam yanked the book out of her hand, needing to see for himself if this was true.

Sam skimmed the brief summary to see the words that the woman had said were true, all of it was in black and white. He looked up at the owner and pointed the book straight at him. "We’re gonna need all the copies of 'Supernatural you’ve got.” He ordered at him, seeming unusually calm about this. Y/N stood there, silent, and all the color draining from her face at the mere thought of what could be happening. Before she could process the information into a formal thought, her vision went black.

\+ + +

“'Her vision went black.’ Heh. Like that hasn’t been done before.” Chuck bitterly thought to himself out loud as he peered out at the word document from behind his reading glasses. He’d been up for almost an hour since awakening from another dream and back at his computer to write his fictional characters, the ones that landed him into mediocre fame. It was enough money that landed him a decent house in the suburbs and paid for his drinking habit that seemed to be growing worse each passing year. It was around six in the morning and already he’d had two thousand words of his new book written. He’d thought after writing a few dozen he’d be done by now. A year had passed since he’d killed off his characters Y/N and Dean, forcing the young and troubled Sam to roam the world alone. Fans were heartbroken at the finale, but Chuck couldn’t help what his mind created.

Now, as he examined the thick packets with the titles that were spread across his desk, he understood why the books had to end where they did. The unpublished novels, all sixteen of them, were brutal and filled with angst nobody should be forced to read. On the Head of a Pin had been his latest tragedy that turned into a monster, but It’s a Terrible Life didn’t seem that bad, well, until the end. He glanced back over at his computer screen, wondering if the new route he was taking in his books was strange. He quietly chuckled to himself and began to write again, thinking that putting himself into the story wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like anybody was going to read his work, either.

\+ + +

You had an ice pack wrapped in a towel you had found in the motel bathroom and book number five of the Supernatural Series, 'Skin’, in your other. This was the sixth book you’ve devoured in the last few hours since arriving back from the comic book store. Every word, every single action that you’d ever done…was in paperback for the world to read like you were some fictional character. Furrowing your brows even tighter together, you read about your character being taunted by the shapeshifter you encountered back in St. Louis, when you first started hunting and had no clue what you were doing. God, you were an idiot. You winced when you accidentally pressed harder against the head wound you’d suffered after passing out on the floor from shock. It wasn’t everyday you find out that someone, this Carver Edlund, had written about your entire life. The first book was like peeking into a memory; from your gruesome past, all to the ghost you’d hunted, it was there in perfect detail, even showing the inner monologue that neither one of you shared with each other.

Turning the page, you were now reading about being choked to death by the shifter. You wanted to gag from the heinous writing you had been forced into reading. “With her vision growing spotty, Y/N weakly reached an arm upwards to somehow gain control of the situation. It wasn’t that she was afraid of dying, it was seeing the shapeshifter dressed as Dean, being the last thing she would see.”

“This is freakin’ insane. How does the guy know all this stuff?” Dean’s voice breaks away your concentration from the book. You look up to see that he was lying on his side and reading one of the books, Route 666, if you remembered. You shut the book you’d been skimming and tossed it to the edge of the bed, where it joined the rest you’d bought at the store. “Everything is in here—I mean everything. From the racist truck to me having sex. I’m full-frontal in here.“

You examined the books at your feet to see that you’d had previous cases dealing with the hillbilly family that hunted humans for sport all the way to the second last of the series, where you and the boys were surrounded by the demons Lilith put on you, trapping you inside the police station. And where you admitted to still being a virgin at the time. You kicked the book title Jus in Bello with your foot before crossing them together. "How come we haven’t heard of them before?” You asked, turning your attention to Sam, who’d been sitting at the table with his laptop.

“They’re pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation.” Sam said, seeming rather baffled himself at what was going on. You got up from the bed and followed behind Dean to the table when he made his way over to take a seat, where you wondered where the young man found out. “Uh, started in '05. The publisher put out a few couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one—'No Rest for the Wicked'—ends with you two going to Hell.”

“And they lived happily never after.” You muttered underneath your breath. Even in a fictional world, you were still getting a bitter ending. You turned around the laptop to scroll through the official website of this Carver, as you skimmed over to see that there was twenty-four published books, you began thinking more and more about this. You clicked a few buttons until you stumbled upon what seemed to be the message boards with a few threads that were updated recently. When you read a few, it seemed your mood did a full turn, for you were starting to giggle at the realization that someone was writing about you and others seemed rather invested in the journey. “Check it out. There’s actually fans! Not many, but still, did you read this? It’s kind of cool.”

"Although for fans,” Dean peered over your shoulder to read the messages left by users. Most of them were pretty positive, making comments about what books they liked, the oldest Winchester found one that he took personal offence to. “Listen to this—Simpatico says, 'The demon storyline is trite, cliched, and overall craptastic.’ Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it.”

“Yeah. Well, keep on reading.” Sam chuckled out loud, he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “It gets better.”

You scrolled through the website to see that there was some pretty interesting stuff, from comments about people liking your character a lot, and others complaining more about how it could have ended differently, you stumbled upon a sight that was stories written by users. You read a few tags with a smile spreading across your lips. “There are 'Sam Girls’ and 'Dean Girls.’ Hell, some people even think you and I would make a cute couple, Sammy. 'Red Sky till Morning’ really sold some folks.” You said with a sly smirk, you gave him a playful wink when you read a few people commenting on how they thought you and him would make such a cute couple. Again, you could gag. But as you furthered down the stories, some of them paired with you and Dean, you stumbled upon something you weren’t familiar with. “Wait. What’s a 'slash fan’?”

“As in,” You glanced up from the screen as Sam explained, your face dropped in surprise, the man seemed almost pained from what he was saying.. “Sam-slash-Dean. Together.”

Dean glanced up from the laptop screen at what he head, “Like, together together?” He asked with hesitance, Sam unfortunately said yes. You furrowed your brow and glanced back at the computer to take a second inspection of the fiction. Quick as you could, you scrolled away from the content in discomfort at the thought. “They do know we’re brothers, right?”

Sam shrugged, “Doesn’t seem to matter.”

“Okay. That’s enough for me today.” You mumbled when you started venturing down the rabbit hole. Shutting the laptop closed, you pushed it away before a strange mental image could cross your mind and permanently harbor a home. “First things first. We got to find this Carver Edlund.”

“Yeah, that might not be easy.” Sam said. You gave him an annoyed look, asking him why not. “No tax records, no known address. Looks like 'Carver Edlund’ is a pen name.”

That was the oldest trick in the book, hiding behind a fake name to protect the author and their future reputation if the book didn’t go as planned. You knew a few famous authors used pen names to publish books that weren’t up to their usual genre. Peering over your shoulder and back to the bed, you narrowed your eyes on the ten books. Somebody’s got to know who he is. And you had a feeling the small print of the publishing company on the spine of the book would be a great start.

\+ + +

“So, you published the 'Supernatural’ books?”

There it was, that damn cover. You examined the detail of the first Supernatural book that was blown up to a regular poster size, and put on display above her fireplace in a gold frame. You glanced away from yourself after you realized you’d been staring this entire time with a grim expression on your face, silently wondering why it looked so damn weird. You were a fictional character in a book. You still kept waiting for an angel to appear. Instead when you looked away from the poster, you were greeted again by Natalie Britton, the bashful agent of Carver Edlund, who proudly displayed her affection for the books she had successfully published through her indie company she ran from home.

“Yep. Yeah.” Natalie answered with another smile at Sam’s question. She nervously intertwined her fingers together as she began walking forward to her desk, where you spotted the bookshelf she was walking towards. You noticed that she’d had all twenty-four books out for display. Most of the copies had their spine with clear white lines of indents to hold the book better. Natalie sure liked to read these. “Gosh. These books, you know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap. You know—'Doctor Sexy, M.D.’ Please. And that’s another thing I love about the books, their subtly to the romance between Y/N and Dean. Carver just had a way with words between them. There was so little, yet, so much.”

For a split second you couldn’t help but feel weirded out at the thought of people actually reading your own personal feelings, dissecting it as what they will. You glanced upward to the man standing to your right, both of you shared baffled expressions, all before you were looking at Natalie. You gave her a friendly smile, trying to continue on this conversation like any other one. “Well, we’re hoping that our article can shine a light on an underappreciated series.”

“Yeah, yeah, because, you know,” Natalie said with a hopeful voice. There was a twinkle in her eye when she thought about returning to her fictional world that she’d grown attached to, with new adventure. She’d gotten herself lost in thought as she approached you. “If we get a little bit of good press, then m-maybe we could start publishing again.”

“No, no, no, no. God, no.” Dean protested the idea of even more coming to light. Natalie stopped in her tracks, and from the expression that was settling on her face, she was becoming offended. You roughly jabbed him in the side from where you were from standing, making him redirect the thought to get back on the woman’s good side. He took a step forward to her, “I mean, why—why would you want to do that? You know, it’s, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean and Y/N going to Hell and all. Never…Never quite getting to where they started.”

“Oh, my God! It broke my heart, but it was one of my favorite ones! Now, don’t get me wrong, I know a lot of people didn’t like Y/N’s storyline at the end. You know, her selling her soul for Dean. Some people thought it made her weak. I, however, think it was genius. Her putting her entire life on the line for the man she loved? Oh. And how they shared their first and final kiss? I burst into tears right there.” Natalie pressed her hands against her chest as she briefly closed her eyes. “And Dean, constantly trying to protect the only woman he’d truly loved before it was too late. How much he tried to stay strong…and sad and brave. And Sam…I mean, the best parts are when they’d cry.”

You wanted to scream, but all that came out was a small breath as Natalie continued on. “You know, like in —in 'Heart,’ when Sam had to kill Madison, the first woman since Jessica he really loved. And in 'Home,’ when Dean had to call John and ask him for help.” Her voice accidentally broke from the emotion that she was putting herself through. Your face scrunched up for a brief moment of disturbance as Natalie sniffled a few times and turned her back to you and the brothers. “If only real men were so open and in—in touch with their feelings.”

”Real men?“ Dean asked the woman.

"I mean, no offence.” Natalie said, turning back around to face the brothers she’d accidentally offended. If she only knew the men standing in front of her was the people she was gushing about. “How often do you cry like that, hmm?”

“Well, right now, I’m crying on the inside.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. Natalie heard his remark, she titled her head to the side and gave him a look, and without hesitance she asked him if what she’d said was funny. “Lady, this whole thing is funny.”

You glanced over at the woman standing across from you, a forced chuckle came out from the remark she didn’t know exactly how to respond towards. After a second Natalie kept the conversation going before it got awkward. “How do I know the three of you are legit, hmm?” She asked with a cautious tone. As she headed forward to her desk, you assured her that the three of you were the real deal. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from saying that as she sat down, still, she looked at you with a side-eyed. “Well, I don’t want any smart-ass article making fun of Y/N and my boys.”

“Actually, you wouldn’t know it, these two knuckle heads are huge fans.” You said with a nudge to the brothers you were standing between as you gave her another smile. “We’ve been hooked since the very beginning. Read all the books cover to cover.”

Natalie looked at you for a moment, “What’s the year and model of the car?”

“1967 Chevy Impala.” Dean answered right off the bat, and with a grin to match.

“What’s May second?” Natalie asked another question.

“That’s my—uh,” Sam corrected himself. “That’s Sam’s birthday.”

“January 24th is Dean’s.” The oldest Winchester mumbled, you rolled your eyes.

Natalie wasn’t done yet, the questions were getting harder. “Sam’s scare of the LSAT?”

You furrowed your brow at the knowledge that nobody should know about. You looked over at Sam, who struggled to remember himself. “One…seventy four.” He answered, catching himself barely by the thread.

“Dean’s favorite song?” She asked.

“That’s easy. It’s a tie. Between Zep’s 'Ramble on’ and 'Traveling Riverside Blues.’” You answered for her, faster than she was expecting from the expression on her face. “What can I say? I’m a Dean girl at heart.”

"Honestly, I can’t choose between the two. Both of them are so…” Natalie couldn’t help herself but gush, you could feel yourself reacting with a smile that wasn’t force this time. “Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?”

“What’s Carver Edlund’s read name?” You asked her, starting off with the reason why you were here in the first place. But it seemed that was the one question Natalie couldn’t answer. She shook her head and began nervously mumbling that she couldn’t do such a thing. “We just want to talk to him. You know, get the 'Supernatural’ story in his own words.”

“He’s very private.” Natalie tried to explain. “Like Salinger.”

Minus the talent, you thought to yourself. Sam seemed to have an idea in his head that might work, a little pleading and showing some skin never hurt, either. “Please. Like I said—we are,” Sam reached up a hand to start unbutton part of his flannel that he was wearing, prompting a reaction. You mentally rolled your eyes and joined the show, you unbuttoned your jeans as Sam yanked down his shirt to show the tattoo, you shimmied down your pants just enough to show off the tattoo you’d recently had redone on your hip. Dean forced himself to yank down the collar of his shirt when Natalie was waiting on him after inspecting yours for a moment. “Big fans.”

Natalie could feel herself giggle, thinking for a moment of how each of your tattoos were placed just like in the book. She got up from her chair and decided to show off hers. “You know what?” She had hers in a much different place, your eyes widened when you saw her full naked rear out in front of you. “I got one, too.”

“Whoa.” Dean mumbled to himself. “You are a fan.”

Natalie broke out into a grin from the comment as she quickly pulled her pants back up. As she reached for the notepad on her desk and averted her gaze away from you, that’s when you gave Dean, your boyfriend, the death glare that sent his smirk to curl away, trying to pretend that nothing happened. “His name is Chuck Shurley.” Natalie said. She ripped off the piece of paper and handed it over to you, the author’s adress was scribbled down in black ink. “And he’s a genius, so don’t piss him off.”

You gave her a smile of reassure as you reached out to snatch the folded up piece of paper from her grip. To be safe, you skimmed the writing to see there was an address that seemed legitimate enough to be real. With your mind swimming with possibilities to figure out what was going on, you hoped this Chuck Shirley, was ready to meet his real life inspiration.

\+ + +

Write drunk, edit sober. It was a saying most writers should live by. When someone’s lost in the feeling of having no restraints to keep themselves back after a few drinks, it often helped break the mold which a writer might have gotten used to with their characters they created. Chuck felt like he’d been writing drunk for months now. Well, he didn’t really know the last time he’d been completely sober since the ending of “No Rest for the Wicked.” It wasn’t killing off two characters and sending to Hell that drove him closer to the bottle. The nightmares of an actual depiction of the possible torture and angst he wrote about is what made him on edge for months for what he was able to easily come up with. Sometimes he wondered about putting out the sequel he’d properly titled Lazarus Rising, where Y/N and Dean were brought back from the dead and reunited with Sam. But whenever he picked up the phone to talk to his publisher, he stopped himself before hitting the first button. He was holding himself back out of fear from what people would think of the characters.

It wasn’t the gruesome description of torture of the flashbacks he’d plagued Y/N and Dean, which might have given Stephen King a run for his money at the superb detail, which seemed like it be the reason to publishing another book. It was the development of his beloved characters that was holding him back. Chuck had spent two dozen books creating characters people fell in love with because of their morals and family values with inside jokes. The characters had a little bit of everything for his small collection of fans to love. Some liked Dean’s sarcasm or Sam’s empathy for people, perhaps Y/N’s quick tongue. But the people in the seventeen stories Chuck churned out the past year wasn’t the beloved characters he’d created. He made them into…monsters. The same ones fans had spent hours reading as silent passengers with their favorite fictional characters as they hunted down these so called villains to save the day.

Dean, the brave and stubborn headed brother, was just a hollow shell of himself now, torn apart from the terrible things he’d done in Hell. Sam was another tragic story all together, thinking about it made Chuck imagine all the emails and angry posts that would be splattered all over the message boards a few days after the release. Fans might have appreciated the way Y/N was coming out. Her storyline was a slow build, but with the things he’d been plotting, it would be interesting to see a woman hold so much potential to be bad. Most female characters only went a few ways—either the sickly sweet and goody two shoes, the cold and calculated who could probably kick your ass six ways to Sunday. Or the bad to the bone, stereotypical female antagonist. Not that there was anything wrong with those type of characters, he just and wanted her to be different, a mesh of all three characteristics, but still remain almost transparent and relatable to the readers. He wanted to have it where if they were in her position, they would do the exact same thing. Chuck felt if his editor responded positive with his plan, maybe he would finally get the courage to possibly relaunch the series and it wouldn’t be a complete failure.

Now it was time to edit, a writer’s least favorite pastime. Chuck emerged from the fridge with a cold piece of pizza stuck between his teeth and his black framed reading glasses on the top of his head for safekeeping until he would need them in a moment. As he traveled to the kitchen table that was used mostly as his desk, he heard the printer cranking out the last few pages of the rough draft he’d been working on since early this morning. Chuck set down his drink and sat himself down to grab the warm papers, his eyes noticed the cluttered table that was causing a problem for him. He wouldn’t call himself an alcoholic, but the empty beer bottles and crushed cans that littered his office floor from the past few weeks would tell another story he mentally noted to put into the rough draft he was finally going to accomplish after procrastinating all morning. Pushing down his glasses and shuffling the papers together into a neat pile, Chuck cleared his throat and glanced down at his second chapter, reading out loud the first paragraph that plunged the reader straight into the action, unbeknowingly the details that were transpiring out his front door.

“Sam and Dean approached the run-down…” Chuck read out the first sentence out loud, only to find himself reaching for the newly sharpened pencil laying beside him. He quickly scratched out a word before messily edited the quality for better word flow. “Approached the ramshackle house with trepidation. Y/N lingered behind for a moment as she found herself lost in thought, for a woman driven by curiosity, her feet wouldn’t move from the pavement to join the brothers as they stepped closer to the front porch steps. Did they really want to learn the secrets that lay beyond that door? Y/N heavily sighed to herself as she moved away from the Impala, joining the brothers. She learned too late in life that keeping herself in the dark doesn’t lead to positive outcomes. The woman had been to Hell and back, she thought this, a mere clinch in her life, would be easy to handle, but the nervous feeling gnawing in her gut since laying her eyes upon the novel was only growing worse with each grueling second that passed her by told a different perspective. Y/N wanted to learn what was coming of this situation….No. She needed to know. 

Sam and Dean traded soulful looks. Y/N stood behind with her hands resting against her side. Then, with determination, Dean pushed the doorbell with forceful…determination.” Chuck flinched at his repetitive word structure he didn’t catch. Out of frustration he tossed the papers to the table and carelessly ripped off his glasses. He frustratingly ran a hand down his face, wondering why this part was becoming so hard to design like he’d imagined in his head. “Ugh!”

Chuck’s crippling frustration from his writing only lasted a brief moment when his attention was brought somewhere else, his doorbell rang. His brow furrowed for a moment as his eyes wandered down to the papers that were scattered all over his desk. Thinking that it was a mere coincidence, Chuck pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the door, not caring that he was dressed in a robe and pajamas. It was still early in the afternoon and nobody made the effort in his personal life to see him. He opened the door expecting that the two men, and a woman he’d seen just barely through the gap between their shoulders, were here to either sell him something or to try and convert him to their religion. But with nothing in their hands, the conversation was about to turn into a situation he had dreaded.

“You Chuck Shurley?” The one standing to the doorbell spoke first.

The tallest man spoke a second after, “The Chuck Shurley who the ‘Supernatural’ books?”

“Maybe.” Chuck answered the men, suspicious of why they were here. “Why?”

“I’m Y/N. This is Dean and Sam.” Chuck’s gaze lingered to the woman standing in the middle. He could feel himself becoming baffled for just a split second, wondering why he’d felt a sudden rush of deja vu, but he pulled himself out of his thoughts when she spoke again when logic finally kicked back in to explain what was going on here. “The Y/N, Dean and Sam you’ve been writing about.”

Chuck could feel a forced smile stretching across his lips from what was happening. He gave the three people standing on his doorway a once over before slamming the door, hoping that it was some kind of joke. But a few seconds later, the doorbell rang for the second time. He let out a heavy sigh before he opened the door back up to confront the group. “Look, uh, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It’s, uh, it’s always nice to hear from the fans.” Chuck tried his hardest to remain civil, but all he’d gotten as a response was an angered expression. “But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life.”

Closing the door as a way to end this brutal and awkward conversation, Chuck was taken by surprise when the man going by Dean quickly slapped a hand against the frosted glass, putting just enough force against the wood to keep it in its place. “See, here’s the thing. We have a life.” He said, speaking in a eerily calm tone. His facial expression told a different story. “You’ve been using it to write your books.”

Things escalated when Chuck found himself stumbling backward into his home after Dean took a step forward, barging himself in without a warning, the two others followed behind. “Now, wait a minute.” Chuck stuttered out with nervousness from what was going on. “Now, this isn’t funny.”

“Damn straight, it’s not funny.” Dean hissed at him with anger.

“Look,” The man going by Sam stepped into the conversation with a calm demeanor, as if he was trying to keep this entire situation civil. “We just want to know how you’re doing it.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Chuck said, unsure what the hell was going on here.

“Are you a hunter?” Dean questioned the man. Chuck’s face scrunched up in bewilderment, he shook his head and said that he was a writer. But it seemed the answer he provided wasn’t the one Dean was looking for when he went charging forward again with an aggressive expression. “Then how much do you know so much about demons and tulpas and changelings?”

Chuck found himself back into his couch, and before he knew it, the man was accidentally falling backwards onto the soft cushions. He shuffled farther away from the men, suddenly thinking the worst fear for a writer had come true. “Is this some kind of 'Misery’ thing?” Chuck asked. He suddenly regretted killing off those two characters. Fans were pissed about the ending. Just like Paul Sheldon, Chuck wondered if he would be forced against his will to rewrite his entire series to bring back Y/N and Dean to life. His editor warned him about doing such a drastic move, why didn’t he listen to her? “Ah, it is, isn’t it? It’s a 'Misery’ thing!”

“It’s not a 'Misery’ thing.” Dean said. “Believe me, we are not fans.”

“Well, then, what do you want?!” Chuck yelled at them. But yet again, he was introduced to the three people that were playing some cruel joke of being the people he wrote about. Chuck found this entire situation less funny, now his mood was borderline anger to straighten out this situation before it would get out of hand, more than it already had. “Sam, Dean and Y/N are fictional characters. I made them up! They’re not real!”

Reality should have set in for the three wannabe fans, but Chuck was only forced deeper into this mess after the man still calling himself Dean forced him up to his feet. Dragged outside, Chuck noticed the car parked against the sidewalk was suspiciously like the model his character rode—a mint condition 1967 Chevy Impala, the model painted black with not even a single scratch, they even had the same license plate. The man remained silent, still believing these were fans who had no life, but when the trunk was popped to reveal a secret compartment of all sorts of weapons that could pose a dangerous threat, his mouth parted ever so slightly. It wasn’t that he was afraid, it was because he’d dreamt about this. But he brought himself back into reality once more with the excuse of how many times he’d described the book of their extensive arsenal collection.

“Are those real guns?” Chuck couldn’t help himself but ask.

“Yup.” Dean answered. He furthered this charade by leaning down to the trunk and pointing at certain things a hunter in his universe would need to survive by hunting monsters and posing as people of power, just like how his characters. “And this is real rock salt and these are real fake I.D.s.”

Chuck chuckled to himself nervously at what was going on, he attempted to keep himself calm as he ever so slowly began walking back to his house. He devised a plan to continue on with whatever screwed up mindset these people were going off on. “Well, I gotta hand it to you guys. You really are my number-one fans.” Chuck said with a forced smile. His eyes stared at the shotguns for a second before he decided to put his plan in action. “So, I-I think I’ve got some posters in the house.” He managed to make it all the way to about a foot from the front porch before they were following after him, prompting Chuck to turn around and throw his hands up in a defensive position, knowing well enough their height alone rendered him almost powerless if things escalated to violence. "Please, don’t hurt me.”

“How much do you know?” The woman asked him. She stood in front of him, and though she might not pose much of a threat, Chuck wasn’t going to take his chances. “Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith and breaking the seals?”

“Wait a minute.” Chuck mumbled with confusion. “How do you know about that?”

“The question is,” She didn’t change the subject, bringing it back to him. “How do you?”

“Cause I wrote it.” Chuck answered.

She seemed a bit baffled at his response, “You kept writing?”

“Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out.” Chuck said. He could see an exchange of looks from each of them. He found himself suddenly letting out a chuckle, presuming this entire situation was some stunt his agent put him under. “Okay, wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right? Did that—Did Phil put you up to this?”

The three strangers stood there for a brief moment, as they exchanged looks between themselves, it was the woman who glanced back over at him. She didn’t seem to be joking when she introduced herself again, hurdling everyone into a situation Chuck was previously editing right before the doorbell rang. He nervously swallowed when he realized this was real. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. This is Dean Winchester and his little brother, Sam. Nice to meet you.”

Chuck uncrossed his arms when he heard a bit of information nobody should know about. It was the secret he’d kept from everyone. “The last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down.” He muttered to what felt like himself. Looking down at the cracks of the sidewalks he stood on, he could feel a pounding migraine beginning to settle. He brought up a hand and cradled his aching head. “God, I need a drink.”

\+ + +

You stood in the middle of the living room of the famous Chuck Shurely, the author of the Supernatural series, aka the memoir of your entire life. Your mind was still spinning around at the thought of this being real, but it seemed Chuck had the right idea of handling this situation. He stood in his kitchen with his back turned to you and the brothers. Reaching for a liquor bottle that was the closest to him, he grabbed a dirty glass from the sink and poured himself a decent amount before he downed the entire glass in one gulp. You raised a brow and crossed your arms over your chest, Chuck exhaled a sharp breath as he slammed the cup back down to the counter. Turning back around, he physically flinched when he saw all of you lingering around.

“Oh! Oh, you’re still there.” Chuck muttered with despair. He reached up to cradle his head again, you nodded your head to confirm his absolute worst fear. “You’re not a hallucination.”

“Nope.” You answered him yet again, rolling your eyes.

“Well, there’s only one explanation.” Chuck said. He walked over to his kitchen table and leaned against the chair. All of you stared at him, curious to hear what he presumed what was going on here. Only his answer made you let out a frustrated sigh from such a ridiculous and over the top answer that could be true. “Obviously I’m a God.”

“You’re not a God.” Sam corrected the man.

“How else do you explain it? I write things and they come to life. Yeah, no, I’m definitely a God.“ Chuck said, seeming to settle for this theory. You kept yourself quiet as he rambled on with this, and as you looked over at Sam, both of you shared the same expression of frustration. "A cruel, cruel, capricious God. The things I put you through—the physical beatings alone.”

“Yeah, we’re still in one piece.” Dean said, pretending to sympathize for the man.

“I killed your parents. I killed your father. I burned Mary, your poor mother, alive. And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica.” Chuck rambled on, seeming to tear himself apart from the imaginary guilt that was settling into his mind. Sam stared at the man with a serious expression, he spoke the man’s name hoping it would be enough to snap him out of this downward spiral. It only furthered it along as Chuck wandered to the sink and turned his back to the three of you again. “All for what? All for the sake of literary symmetry. I toyed with your lives, your emotions, for…entertainment.”

"You didn’t toy with us, Chuck, okay? You didn’t create us.” You told him, hoping the reality would finally sink in for him.

“Did you really have to live through the bugs?” Chuck asked.

“Yes.” You answered him quickly with a sharp tone. “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

“What about the ghost ship?” Chuck asked about the hunt you worked with Bela Talbot on. Again, you nodded your head to answer him. You rolled your eyes in annoyance when Chuck stared at you with a sympathetic expression from what he thought he put you through. He remembered that you went through the fairytale hunt gone wrong, the fearful moment of being drowned, and only for him to write it back into the story, making all for the factor of pushing a new phobia that haunted you even to this very day. “I am so sorry. I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live through bad writing…If I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass.”

“Chuck,” Dean cut off the man before he could go on. “You’re not a God!”

“We think you’re probably just psychic.” Sam said.

“No.” Chuck shook his head and sat down at his table. He thought the theory you’d come up with was absurd, despite being the only logical explanation of what the hell was going on here. “If I were psychic, you think I’d be writing? Writing is hard.”

“It seems that somehow, you’re just, focused on our lives.” Sam said, trying to explain this to the man.

“Yeah, like laser-focused.” Dean added on. Chuck stared at his computer screen with the draft of his work that the man previously had been editing before this entire situation came about. He didn’t think much of it, until Dean spoke up again to ask the author a question. “Are you working on anything right now?”

“Holy crap.” Chuck muttered to himself. You furrowed your brow when he leaned back his head and shut his eyes for a brief moment. It seemed that he was distressed from what was going on. He opened his eyes back up and reached for a small pile of papers. “The, uh, latest book. It’s, uh, it’s kind of weird.”

“'Weird’ how?” You questioned him in a suspicious tone.

Chuck rubbed his beard for a moment in nervousness form what he’s done, “It’s very Vonnegut.”

“'Slaughterhouse-five’ Vonnegut, or 'Cat’s Cradle,’ Vonnegut?” Dean asked the man, bending down so he was at Chuck’s level. You were slightly taken by surprise at the examples he’d used, and it seemed your lingering stares at the man didn’t go unnoticed. You knew he was smart in his own way, but he wasn’t the type to pick up a book for enjoyment. Dean looked over his shoulder and gave you a confused look from your lingering gaze on him. “What?”

“It’s, uh, 'Kilgore Trout,’ Vonnegut. I wrote myself into it.” Chuck admitted, seeming to make you realize there was something deeply strange going on here. “I wrote myself, at my house…confronted by my characters.”

Chuck fell eerily silent as he found himself staring at the computer screen with his first draft exactly pulled up to the spot he’d written about. He could feel a sick feeling beginning to pile in the out of his stomach. And just like his character he created, he was going to be sick to his stomach. Chuck’s gaze lingered away from the screen to see the brothers exchange a look that was filled with skepticism, unsure of what was going on here. He stared straight ahead to you, who silently stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, your eyes narrowing on him. It wasn’t hard to remember how he’d described you at this very moment; The woman stared at the man with a cold gaze. It was not the fear of what he was capable of, but for what he’d known about her, any sort of crucial detail, that troubled her deeply with fear.

\+ + +

“Y/N furrowed her brow, a bad habit of hers she’d done out of discomfort, and silently read the passages of the words detailing her life. She sat on the countertop of the nearly empty laundromat with her feet hanging off the edge. Dean sat beside her, silently trying his hardest to skim over the passages of the crinkled papers she hogged from everyone.” You let out a scoff as you pressed the packet of papers to your lap, suddenly needing to take a moment away from the adventure that you were putting yourself through. You tried distracting yourself by looking over at Sam, who was busying himself by doing laundry, an old chore you’d grown to miss out of doing it in the comfort of your own home. But it was one of the downsides of hunting, just like how your character admitted in her internal monologue after you found yourself glancing back down at the papers.

“I’m sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself—God,” You stopped yourself with the analogy that had you mentally running around in circles. You pressed your eyelids shut for a moment and let out a frustrated breath. “My head hurts.”

“There’s gotta be something this guy’s not telling us.” Sam said.

You could feel your eyes wandering away from Sam who was starting to walk over to the empty washer with his pile of clothes to start another load. Glancing back down to the paper, you let out a quiet sigh from what you were about to read out loud. “'Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth.’” You glanced up to see that Sam was standing straight up, with a glare written in his expression from what you were doing to him, just like how Chuck described in the next sentence.

“Stop it.” Sam warned you.

“'Stop it,’ Sam said.’ Guess what you do next.” You said, testing his limits to see if he would react differently. Sam didn’t say anything, he gave you an annoyed glare before straightening out his shoulders and returned to his chores. “'Sam turned his back on Y/N. His face, brooding and pensive,’ I mean, I don’t know how he’s doing it, but this guy is doing it. And I can’t see your face, Sammy, but those are definitely your 'brooding and pensive’ shoulders.” You were about to let out a soft chuckle from the joke that you thought was funny, only you stopped yourself from what you read next. “You just thought I was being childish.”

Sam turned around to see that you were staring at the papers with a frown stretching across your lips. He seemed to have changed his mood for the slightest from what you read. “The guy’s good.” Sam admitted, making it your turn to give him an annoyed look.

\+ + +

You found yourself spending the rest of the night lying in your motel bed with a few of the books, curious to see what it was all about. Once you’d gotten over the fact there was someone who’d somehow had visions of your life, you were drawn to see how someone described you in their own words. Most of it was spot on, you couldn’t deny that Chuck had a way with describing a situation, bringing you back to the hunts which felt like they were a million years ago, but when you read it, the memories became clear in your mind again. You could understand why some people were so in love with the series. From an outsider, this was almost like an escape from reality, being able to put yourself in the shoes of a fictional character and going on adventures nobody thought was possible. That’s why you always enjoyed reading, because for a moment, you could pretend to be someone else for a few hundred pages. Who knew your entire life would make a decent storyline. And it seemed your story was far from over.

The next morning you stood back again in the living room of Chuck’s house after you’d gotten word he’d gotten a strange vision you and the boys might want to hear about. You stood near the right side of the house and quietly waited for the writer with your arms crossed over your chest. As you spent a few moments considering how desperate he needed to clean his home, your thoughts were cut away from that when Chuck emerged with warm papers straight from the printer. He kept his head down, hoping to hide the panic in his expression as he read his work for a moment before looking up at the three of you.

“So,” You looked at him with an arched brow, “You wrote another chapter?”

Chuck kept his attention on the chapters he clutched, “This was all so much easier before you were real.”

“We can take it.” Dean reassured the man. “Just spit it out.”

Chuck glanced over at you with hesitant expression from what he was about to say. "You two especially are not gonna like this.“

"I didn’t like Hell.” You said. “Seriously, just tell us.”

The man glanced back down at his papers for a moment, he shifted around his footing as he tried to think of the right way to bring the news. He let out a sigh before coming out with the information, “It’s Lilith. She’s coming for Sam.”

Your arms tightened around your body in anger, "Is she coming to kill him?”

Sam pushed himself from the fireplace he was leaning against. He wasn’t afraid from what he heard, for it was something he’d hoped would happen, he was waiting for the demon to show her face. “When?”

“Tonight.” Chuck answered.

“She’s just gonna show up? Here?” You asked him. You were baffled at what was going on here. Chuck wandered over to the couch so he could take a seat, he silently knew there was more information that he needed to discuss, but you didn’t give him a chance, you were too caught up at the fact Lilith was dropping by after months of being silent. Maybe it was because the angels were silent, and the seals were dwindling down to the last few. “All this time, why?”

Chuck fell silent for another moment as he shuffled around the papers to get to the perfect spot. He reached over and grabbed his reading glasses from the coffee table. You watched the man as he awkwardly cleared his throat, knowing what he was about to read was going to be painfully hard to listen to. “'Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion.’”

Your face scrunched up in discomfort at what you heard, Dean stared over at his brother for a moment, all while Sam let out a laugh. He seemed to be the only one amused at what he heard, but when he caught you and his brother staring at him, he quiet down for just a moment. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“You think this is funny?” Dean asked.

“You don’t?” Sam question his brother back. “I mean, come on. 'Fiery demonic passion’?”

“It’s just a first draft.” Chuck mumbled, trying to defend his word of choice that sounded cringe worthy when he read it out loud for the first time.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Dean said. “Lilith is a little girl.”

“No, uh,” Chuck glanced down at his papers to see that he’d described her far different from how she’d appeared before. Possessing little girls seemed to have been her style, but this time, she was using someone else to get the job done how she wanted of seducing the younger man. “This time she’s a—comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana.’”

“Great.” Dean muttered to himself for second, knowing this wasn’t helpful. “So what happens after the…'fiery demonic’ whatever?”

“I don’t know.” Chuck admitted with a shrug. “That hasn’t come to me yet.” 

“Dean, look, there’s nothing to worry about.” Sam tried to reassure the man. You glanced over at him when he let out another chuckle from the thought of spending a night with the demon who had caused terrible trouble for all three of you. “Lilith and me? In bed?”

If someone told you about this before you discovered the books that Sam and Lilith were going to spend a night together, you would be laughing along with the younger Winchester, thinking it was some terrible joke. But you found yourself starting to become skeptical that Chuck wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been wrong so far, and from his own shooken up reaction at what he’d written, the man wasn’t pleased himself. “How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?” You asked him.

“Well, it usually starts with a headache. A really bad headache. Aspirin is useless, so, I drink. Until I fall asleep.” He explained his process, making it sound far more complicated than what you once thought it was. “The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream. It flowed. It just—It kept flowing. Still does. I-I can’t stop it, really.”

“You can’t seriously believe—”

"Humor me.” Dean cut off his brother. He didn’t like where this was going himself, but Chuck hadn’t proved himself wrong just yet. Pushing himself up to his feet, he walked over to the man, deciding to start devising a plan. “Look, why don’t we, we just…” He glanced over at Chuck, falling silent for a moment when he noticed the chapter he was thinking about asking for was waiting for him. He furrowed his brow and took them to skim over. “Take a look at these and see what’s what.”

“I knew you were going to ask for these.” Chuck said with a quiet voice.

Dean poked his tongue against his cheek, seeming to find that as another reason to trust this Chuck. You were having a hard time yourself believing that Sam would throw all of his morals out the window, all of his constant speeches about wanting to waste Lilith after what she put the three of you through. For a moment you wondered if this was some kind of cheap attempt Sam was going to use of sleeping with the enemy, gaining the demon’s trust before shoving the knife into her heart. Now, that you wouldn’t mind reading about.

\+ + +

Despite the warning you were given from Chuck about the unwelcoming guest, Lilith, you thought it would have been better to get the hell out of town before everything in the new chapter would come to life. Between Sam having a romantic night with another demon and Dean becoming injured from a minivan accident, subsiding his bruising with floral bandaids, none of this was adding up right. Sam wasn’t stupid enough to put his guard down, and Dean would rather cover up a gushing bullet wound with dirty rags and duct tape. Everything was almost too out of character for this to happen, providing Dean yet another excuse to get the hell out of here. Bit it seemed that life wasn’t going to let you change the story. The only bridge leading out to the highway to head for the next town was under construction, making the three of you here trapped for at least a few days, and back at square one with no motel room and clue when Lilith was going to show her face.

You found yourself invested in the newest chapter of the book Chuck had been writing, and with the disturbing imagery aside of picturing Sam and Lilith spending a night together, you read through the rest of the pages with fascination. The brothers decided on spending the afternoon at some diner Sam spotted after arriving back into town. You leaned forward in the rickety old wooden chair, flipping to the next page as you continued reading. “This could be a good thing. I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we have to do is get off.” You put down the papers when a thought crossed your mind. Sam tore his gaze away from the menu he was examining and gave you a funny look, unsure of what you meant by that. “It’s a blueprint of what not to do. I mean, if the pages say that we go left—”

“Then we go right.” Sam said, finishing your thought.

“Exactly. We get off-book. We never make it to the end. It’s opposite day. Here it says that you two, uh, get into a fight. So, much as I know you two love to disagree, no fighting.“ You said, glancing up from the paper you’d skimmed over again to see the brothers were content with the idea. You looked over the paragraphs to see that things were going to get a bit harder. "No research for you, Sammy…And no bacon cheeseburger for you, Dean.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll just order something else.” Dean muttered as his gaze wandered down to the menu he was holding. You decided to reached for the abandoned menu that was hiding underneath the chapter and skimmed for an option that seemed decent enough. A few moments later your waitress came over with a friendly smile. “Hi, uh, what’s good?”

"Well, if you like burgers, Oprah’s girlfriend said we had the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country.” The waitress said, using the exact line which tempted Dean in the first place to make his choice.

Sam ordered himself a cobb salad and you settled for the first thing that you saw that looked decent enough, Dean painfully ordered a veggie burger to switch things up. You could see the frustration in his expression when he handed off the menu back to the waitress before she headed off to the kitchen and place your orders. When the woman was free from sight, Sam leaned back in his seat and let the tiniest smile spread across his lips.

“This whole thing’s ridiculous.” Sam remarked, making his brother think that taking on Lilith was what he’d meant. “The idea of me hooking up with her is.”

“Right.” Dean chuckled to himself at what he heard and looked down at the table. He reached out a hand to grab the papers from your spot on the table. “Cause something like that could never happen.”

You were drawn away from the empty spot in the diner you’d been mindlessly staring at for a brief moment and stared at the man sitting on your left. You cleared your throat, knowing well enough from Dean’s passive aggressive remark wasn’t a good thing. He seemed to ignore the warning you gave him and quietly read through the chapter. Sam adjusted his eyesight to his brother and tried his hardest to be reasonable with him. “Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close.” Sam said. His brother looked up, showing no sign that he cared much about facing the demon. “So, we’ve got the jump on her. If we know when she’s coming, we know where—this is an opportunity.”

“Are you—” Dean snapped at his brother with an angry tone. But before he could escalate this conversation into an argument you cleared your throat loud as possible, ignoring the passive glares from customers from your rude behavior that was inappropriate. The oldest Winchester found his mistake and fell silent for a moment to relax his temper, after a moment, he spoke up again in a much calmer tone. “It frustrates me when you say such reckless things.”

“Well, it frustrates me when you’d rather hide than fight.” Sam told his brother, using a tense voice.

You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled your eyes in frustration at the subtle argument that proceed. No matter what, it seemed the brothers couldn’t stop themselves from discussing what they thought was right for this risky situation. Luckily the conversation was brought to a halt when the waitress came back with your food, giving an opportunity for the brothers to at least stop speaking for a few moments. You thanked the woman when she placed down your food and headed back off to tend to other customers. As you reached for the fork to dig into your food, you knew Dean was going to have the last word, thinking he was going to rein control over what Sam was going to do.

“It’s not hiding. It’s being smart. It’s picking your battles. And this is a battle that we are not ready to fight.” Dean lectured his brother, who sat across from him with a mild annoyed look. You shoved your fork into your food when the conversation between the three of you went silent and Dean grabbed his burger to keep himself at least occupied for a moment. You were about to take a bite of your own food, until, Dean’s reaction stopped you from his surprising reaction. “Oh, my God. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!”

“I’m so sorry!” You looked upwards when you saw the waitress scurry back to the table. It seemed that things were too good to be true, she gave him an apologetic smile from the mistake she’d done. “I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake.”

Soon as she grabbed the plate, the waitress scurried back to the counter to fix Dean the proper dish he’d ordered. When you realized what had happened, you take a bite from your fork and quietly chewed the food. Sam and Dean clearly had an argument about how to handle Lilith, and came the cheeseburger secretly disguised as a plot twist you didn’t see coming. Huffing out a breath through your nose, your eyes wandered down to the pages. Despite all your effort and attempts to change the direction of the book like some screwed up Choose Your Own Adventure, it seemed all roads lead to the same path. But you’d be damned if you were going to let Lilith near Sam.

\+ + +

“Don’t you think this is a little…ironic?”

You stood with your hands on your hips and occupied the center of the new motel room that took you almost an hour of scouring the internet to find. There weren’t many options in town that could keep Sam under the radar until this entire mess blew over. In the book it said Lilith and the younger Winchester spent their moment of demonic passion at the Red Motel, it sure sounded better than the swanky two star motel that was just a few blocks from here. You stayed there for one night all before you were packing up your things, just to be safe. But to make sure the events didn’t occur like they had been, you settled on another motel that sure wasn’t for traveling salesmen or families passing through.

Some people called this place a love motel for escorts and their customers or unfaithful spouses, you thought it was a complete ripoff from how much you had to fork out from your own pocket to stay the night. And considering the purpose of the motel, where people go to get intimate, it left you mentally scratching your head for what you were trying to avoid in the first place. You looked away from the interior of the crappy motel and glanced over at Dean. He threw one of the duffel bags to the bed and began to move around some clothes, he seemed focused on finding whatever it was.

A few seconds later you found yourself catching the answer to your silent question when Dean discovered what he was looking for. When you caught the small object hurdling in your direction, you opened your palm to see that it was a hex bag Ruby had shown all of you to be safe from demons, herself included, when times began dangerous. Dean nodded his head at the direction of the nightstand that was near you as he took the opposite side of the room. Sam watched from the beside as the sight unfolded, as he was already frustrated from being put on lockdown, he could feel his mood growing more foul when he saw the both of you roaming around the room with the hex bags that he couldn’t see. Asking what you were doing, you quietly opened up the drawer to the nightstand and dropped the small cloth bag into the hiding spot and looked over your shoulder at Sam, shutting the drawer in the process.

Dean wandered around the room, placing hex bags at every single inch of the place, just to be safe. “Couple of hex bags out to Lilith-proof the room.” He said, walking back over to the bed to grab the remaining bags and placed them at the spots he found appropriate.

“So, what?” Sam asked in a sharp tone. He was aggravated from the position you were forcing him into without much of a choice. “I’m supposed to just hole up here all night?”

“That’s exactly what you’re gonna do, okay? And no research. I don’t care what you do—use the magic fingers or watch ‘Casa Erotica’ on pay-per-view.” Dean said, trying to be helpful by giving his little brother a few ideas to make the time go by faster. Your scrunched up slightly at how this entire conversation was turning out, Sam seemed a bit discomforted from the suggestions. You found your attention lingering away from the conversation when you spotted the messenger bag Sam used to carry around his laptop. Before he could protest even more when he found out what you were doing, you knew it had to be done. You cradled his precious laptop against your chest and shook your head, knowing it had to be done. “Just call it a little insurance.”

Sam wasn’t pleased from the eyeroll you spotted, but he finally reluctantly agreed. “What are you two gonna do?”

“Well, the pages say that I spend all day riding around in the Impala. So I’m gonna go park her. And Y/N is gonna make sure I don’t get hit by any minivan.” Dean explains the plan he came up with himself, leaving his little brother to fend for himself. You hoped he would make the right decision and listen to you on this, but even with the defeated look on his face, you weren’t sure if Sam would. As you and Dean began to walk toward the front door, you stopped in your tracks when the man turned around to look over at his brother, instilling just one more of a final warning. “Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some porn.”

Sam responded with another glare, you could feel a fraction of a possible smile threatening to spread across your lips from his brother’s crude advice that would only come from him. You lightly shoved Dean on the shoulder and nodded your head for him to start heading out the door. As Dean opened up the motel door and stepped to the parking lot a few feet away, you gave Sam a verbal warning to stay out of trouble before following behind his brother and shut the door shut, leaving the man alone for the next few hours. Thinking that Sam might listen for once, you walked over to the Impala and circled around to the trunk that was already popped and waiting for you. Gently placing in the laptop next to your own, you stepped back when Dean slammed the trunk closed.

You walked to the passenger side of the car as Dean circled back around to the driver’s side and started up the engine. As the Impala pulled out from the parking lot and passed by the motel sigh, you and Dean observed the road before he pulled out to the highway. Neither one of you noticed the illuminated sign of the motel began to flicker the slightest, and while most of the words short circuited before blowing out, the remaining words spelled out another name for the motel.

\+ + +

FInding a place to park the Impala for the rest of the day didn’t seem like a hard task to accomplish. You noticed a parking lot a few minutes from the motel, it seemed like a convenient enough spot to leave the car. You watched as Dean cautiously locked up the Impala, and before he would step away from his precious Baby, he rattled the door handle to make sure it wouldn’t budge. You knew he wasn’t exactly happy at the circumstances, but he went along with the plan, as he stepped away from the car, both of you began walking back to the main road. Dean carefully examined the quiet street road before he stepped into the street, wanting to make sure there were no cars just about to hurdle forward. You looked over your shoulder out of spite for it, neither one of you caught sight of anything much as you crossed safely to the sidewalk. You made it a few steps before you found yourself overcome with an unsettling feeling, as you looked back over at the parking lot, it seemed your gut was right.

You barely left the Impala unattended for more than two minutes and it seemed Lady Luck wasn’t on your side today. Two teenaged boys snuck out from their hiding spot after they noticed you and Dean finally left, thinking you weren’t going to catch them in the act of trying to car jack you. They barely got more than the driver’s side door open before you were turning around on your heels, a furious streak of anger rushing through you, making you forget all about Dean for a split second. You shouted on the top of your lungs for them to stop, which caused them to out of surprise, only for it to blow right back up in your face. The boys turned around and caught you storming forward, all though they weren’t going to leave you without causing a bit of damage. You flinched when you saw one of them race to the back window and roughly smash the glass, making a huge mess on the pavement as the other opened up the driver’s side door to the car to see if there were any valuables he could possibly take in the second that remained.

All though the punks left empty handed after you made it across the street after running, you were contemplating on going after them to teach a proper lesson, but it seemed you had other important things to worry about. You let out a frustrated sigh as you turned back around to face Dean, who was a little farther away from you, and obvlious to the car that was approaching him. You didn’t realize what was going on yourself until it happened. The minivan came out of nowhere; Dean didn’t have time to register the warning in your voice when you called out his name in a panicked tone. You watched with widened eyes as the van came nearly to a screeching halt, but it wasn’t close enough to stop Dean from roughly hitting the bumper, he rolled on top of it, all before his unconscious body landed to the pavement.

\+ + +

 

“The minivan accident wasn’t that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars.”

You could almost hear the sentence from the book repeat itself in your mind, knowing well enough what you were trying to avoid had unfolded, all of your effort was wasted. When you read the passage of the accident, you wondered if by what Chuck meant when Dean was seeing stars was a reference to the cartoon style after a character was bashed on the head as some literary device to jazz up the pages. You didn’t think it would be so literal. Dean was lying on the ground with you on his side as a crowd of people gathered around to see what the commotion was about. When he began to slowly open his eyes after coming back around, his blurry sight made out the woman who accidentally hit him, and her dangling earrings that so happened to be in the shape of stars. When he realized what he saw, the man wasted no effort as he tried getting himself up into a sitting position, but the grunts of pain you heard from him caused you to warn him of taking it slow before he could hurt himself even more.

“I’m so sorry. I just didn’t seem him. Are you okay?” The woman apologized for what felt like to be the hundredth time in just the past few minutes. Dean managed to get himself up into an upright position after he noticed the van just a foot from where he was lying. He glanced over at you to see that you were right next to his side, observing something on the corner of his face, but when you made eye contact, you gave him a crooked smile. “And sorry about that. My daughter’s going through a doctor phase.”

Dean’s brow furrowed from what the woman said, but his attention was pulled over to the little girl standing next to her mother. She stood with her hands to her side and a bright smile at her work you allowed her to do, knowing it made her feel better from what she witnessed. "You’re all better now.“ She said to the man, thinking she was being helpful. Dean stared at her for a moment longer as his expression only seemed to become more confused, unaware of the floral band-aids on the left side of his face. You knew there was more problems waiting for the both of you, and as you gave both of them a polite smile, you told reassured them that everything would be okay. 

You pushed yourself to your feet and dusted off any dirt that clung to your outfit. Dean was already showing signs of a fast recovery when he noticed the fatal damage to the Impala, he was up on his feet faster than you could keep up with, ignoring the crowd and the apologizing mother. You forced another smile at the two before you walked across the road and back to the parking lot to see the extent of the damage. You let out a frustrated sigh as you placed your hands on your hips, you made sure to avoid the broken glass that littered the pavement from the broken window as you circled around to see if there was anything missing.

Luckily all of your possessions were still in their rightful place when you peered into the car. When you stood back and glanced up at Dean, you caught sight of him staring at his reflection in the backseat window. He spotted the band-aids on the side of his face, and as he reached up to pull one off from his cheek, you knew this was another scene of the book, unfolding right in front of your eyes: "He scratched absently at the pink floral band-aids on his face.” No matter what the both of you tried doing, the book kept playing out into your real life, using clever twists to come back around to what Chuck had written.

Shrugging your shoulders at the predicament you were put under, both of you agreed that vising the author might help figure out what was going on. You and Dean quickly secured a plastic tarp across the broken window before heading back on the road. As you sat in the passenger’s side, you kept yourself quiet with your focus on the chapter you must have read a dozen times now. As you gotten to the part of the aftermath of Dean’s accident, your eyes wander upwards when you heard the tarp causing a quiet ruckus. “Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow." You tucked the papers away when you caught sight of the sour look on Dean’s face when he realized the similarities happening yet again for the both of you. It didn’t help when you saw a crow occupying itself on a tree branch open its mouth and let out a caw.

\+ + +

Chuck arrived home fifteen minutes after you broke inside when nobody answered the handful of times you knocked on his door, so you let yourself in. You quietly sat on the couch with your legs crossed over as Dean occupied the chair across from yours. The silence inside the house was disturbed by the sound of the front door unlocking, and a few moments later, it was greeted by footsteps. Chuck absent mindedly headed into the living room with a paper bag and a six pack in his hands, but it seemed that he wasn’t too surprised from your unannounced arrival. He greeted the both of you by mumbling out your names, his tone was quiet and just a touch of timid. You raised a brow from the lack of emotion or surprise you were expecting from him.

“I take it you knew we’d be here.” You said, starting the conversation.

“Something like that.” Chuck managed to respond. His gaze was pulled away from you when he noticed Dean sitting across from him, and the cold glare he was being given didn’t give him a feeling that this was a social visit. “Dean, you look terrible.”

“That’s 'cause I just got hit by a minivan, Chuck.” Dean told the man. Chuck mumbled a response as he shifted his gaze away. The Winchester raised a brow as he leaned forward in his seat, he turned his head slightly, as if he didn’t catch what the man said. “That’s it? Every damn thing you write about us comes true. And all you have to say is 'Oh’?!”

“Dean,” You scolded the man after you heard him raise his voice. "Don’t yell at the poor man.”

Dean didn’t listen to your command, he pushed himself to his feet and stalked over to Chuck in a slow and threatening pace, until he was towering over the man. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something that you’re telling telling us?”

“What wouldn’t I be telling you?” Chuck asked, baffled at what the hunter was getting at.

“How you know what you know, for starters!” Dean continued to yell at the man when he didn’t get the answer he wanted. Chuck stared at the hunter with widened eyes as he found himself being backed into a corner. He tried mumbling out another excuse that was just a repeated sentence of what Dean said, it seemed like it wasn’t what the oldest Winchester wanted to hear. Dean grabbed ahold of Chuck by the shirt and threw him against the wall, momentarily pinning him in place. “How the hell are you doing this?!”

“Dean, let him go.” The command didn’t come from you, but a stranger’s voice that seemed to appear out thin air. You didn’t realize who it was until you cranked your head to the side and saw Cas of all people, was standing right beside you. The angel and his unexpected visit took you off guard by a bit of surprise, but it seemed he wasn’t here to check up on things, you got the feeling things were about to change for the worst from the warning glare he was giving the oldest Winchester. “This man is to be protected.”

Dean narrowed his eyes on the angel, “Why?”

Cas answered with a response you would have never expected to come out from a situation like this. “He’s a prophet of the Lord.”

The more you fell down the rabbit hole of the apocalypse, the more you were yearning to get the hell out of it from the strange the strange phenomenons. You found there was little time to process the information you heard when Chuck found his voice, for the angel he’d written about was true, and he was standing right in his living room. “You’re…” You turned your head to look at Chuck, who was still leaning against the wall, and attention solely on the angel standing across from him. “You’re Castiel, aren’t you?”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Chuck.” Cas said, acknowledging the man with a nod. He glanced down to the table he was standing next to and spotted a paperback copy of Scarecrow lying down with its pages parted down the middle. He picked it up and began to skim the pages, seeming intrigued about the hunt where Sam ran off to California after getting the phone call from John, making you and Dean deal with a small town that worshiped couples to a pagan God for fresh crops. You tore your gaze away from the book cover as your brow furrowed in confusion from the situation that was slowly unfolding. “I admire your work.”

“Whoa, whoa, what? This guy, a prophet?” Dean asked the angel with a disbelief tone, Cas didn’t respond, his focus engrossed on the book as he turned another page. Chuck hinted around the edge of a nervous breakdown when he grabbed the paper bag from table he’d placed it on after coming home. You noticed that it was a bottle of liquor when the bag was discarded to the ground without a second thought of properly discarding it. Chuck wasted no time in scurrying over to the chair Dean was previously occupying and sitting himself down to enjoy an afternoon drink. Part of you was slightly attempted in joining the man for a cup, both of you appeared uneasy as you felt from what you were hearing. “Come on, he's—He’s practically a Penthouse forum writer!”

“Did you know about this, Chuck?” You asked.

“I, uh, I might have dreamt about it.” Chuck admitted as he twisted off the top of the bottle. You gave him a look of disbelief from what you heard, it seemed Dean wasn’t too happy himself from the information the author didn’t think was appropriate enough to share, even when Dean was hounding him for answers just a few minutes ago. “It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant. I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That’s like M. Night-Level douchiness.”

Chuck poured himself a hearty drink and downed all of it in one gulp like it was a shot, he was doing just about anything to keep his nerves getting the best of him from everything that was unfolding like as it did in his dream. You might not have known a whole lot about prophets and their importance, but you had an instinctual feeling he wasn’t the proper representation you pictured if there ever was one.

“This is the guy who decides our fate?” Dean asked.

“He isn’t deciding anything.” Cas said. “He’s a mouthpiece—a conduit for the inspired word.”

“The word? The word of God?” Dean questioned the angel, who continued on flipping through the book, paying no mind to the man. Chuck leaned back in his seat and covered his face in absolute disparity from what was unfolding right in front of his eyes. “What, like the new testament?”

“One day, these books,” Cas explained to the both of you as he shut the book. He continued to examine the details of the front cover before turning it over to the back and read the short summary. “They’ll be known as the Winchester gospel.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you mumbled out loud your own personal thoughts out loud, but the scene was overshadowed by Chuck, who repeated everything you said in perfect sync. He dreamt all of this before, but you still glanced over at the man and gave him a dirty look out of the frustration you were feeling, Chuck responded by sinking deeper into the chair and drawing his gaze somewhere on the floor. “I am not…” Cas brought your attention back over to him as you turned your head to look at him, you rolled your eyes when he responded to your reaction he didn’t quite get from his lack of knowledge about human behavior. “Kidding you, Y/N.”

You found your gaze lingering back to Chuck when he jumped out from his seat, suddenly becoming overwhelmed at what was really going on here. He quietly passed you and the other men, you gave him a worried look when you saw most of the color drained from his face, but he ignored your concern and headed for the staircase. “If you’d both please excuse me one minute.” Chuck weakly said, giving a nod of acknowledgement before he was taking two steps, rushing to get upstairs. He leaned over the banister slightly when you and Dean stared at him for the longest moment, all before the man disappeared from sight.

“Him? Really?”

“You should have seen Luke.”

“Out of anyone in this world,” You asked the angel. “Why him?”

“I don’t know how prophets are chosen.” Cas admitted to the both of you. “The order comes from high up on the celestial chain of command.”

“How high?”

“Very.”

“Well, whatever. How do we get around this?” Dean brought the attention back over to the most important topic right now, but his question prompted Cas to look at the man with a confused expression from what he was trying to hint at. “The Sam-Lilith love connection. How do we stop it from happening?”

“What the prophet has written can’t be unwritten.” Cas gave you both the bad news you were dreading to hear. It explained the efforts you put through the day to avoid what Chuck written out from his vision only came back around to be true. This meant that Sam was still vulnerable to be spending a night with Lilith, but you had a feeling after she was done with him, she wouldn’t be sticking around to cuddle. “As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass.”

\+ + +

You arrived back to the motel after the sun set, both of you were feeling an overwhelming feeling of frustration from the lack of control you had over this situation. It seemed like with each passing year that approached your lives were becoming more progressively stranger and challenging to handle than you once ever thought. Nobody would have guessed you and the brothers would be going from scouring all over the states for their father John to finding out that angels were real, and a prophet was having personal visions of your life that he used as a profit after he made it into a cult following book series. You slammed the passenger side door of the Impala and let out a breath from the thoughts that were starting to get on your nerves. Dean followed a moment later after he shut off the engine. You waited for him as he climbed out of the car and made sure to lock up, but as your gaze wandered around the empty parking lot, your eyes were drawn to the lit up motel sign to see most of the letters were blown out, leaving a single word that didn’t process the consequences.

“Red.” You mumbled the name underneath your breath, wondering why it sounded so familiar to you. Furrowing your brow, it took you a second before it clicked inside your head of why it wasn’t good to see. “The Red Motel.”

It was the name of the motel you’d spent over an hour to avoid, why you picked this one instead of the previous one you were contemplating on staying at. Just like what Cas had said, everything that Chuck writes comes true. You and Dean didn’t waste another second at running for the motel room, presuming the worst case scenario in the back of your mind when the door opened, but thankfully you were greeted with a very baffled Sam at your unannounced arrival. He jumped up from the bed he’d been previously occupying alone, and before he could ask how your day went, Dean was walking over to the bed and snatching up the duffel bag from the ground, trying one last attempt at changing the story here.

“Come on. We’re getting out of here.” Dean said, giving not much of a choice from the tone of voice. He turned his back to you and Sam, wasting no time, he began packing whatever remains that he had lying around. Sam looked over at you, he wondered where the three of you would go, and why the sudden change of plans. “Anywhere, okay? Out of this motel, out of this town. I don’t care if we got to swim, we are getting out.”

Dean was making it verbally clear that he wanted to get the hell out before trouble could brew like he’d been dreading. But it seemed Sam didn’t want to play along, you found that out when you observed the room to see where Dean left the hex bags, but they were gone, all of them vanished from sight. “Sam,” You walked over to the nightstand and pulled out the drawer, even the one you’d hidden was gone. “Where are all the hex bags?”

“I burned them, Y/N.” Sam’s answer wasn’t the one you were expecting to hear. He shifted around in his spot on the motel carpet when you threw daggers at him from the vulnerable position he was putting himself in. “Look, if Lilith is coming, but is a big 'If'—”

“No, no, no. It’s more than an 'If.’ Chuck is not a psychic. He’s a prophet.” You said, giving him the bit of information you’d been dying to tell him. It seemed that Sam was taken by surprise at what you told him just as much as you were when you first heard it. “Cas, showed up, and apparently Chuck is writing the gospel of you two idiots.”

“Okay. Now with that recap,” Dean grabbed ahold of the duffel bag. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Sam let out a quiet sigh, “No.”

“Are you stupid? Lilith isn’t gonna be spending a night with you.” You warned the younger man with a venomous tone. You knew from your own experience Lilith got off on hurting people, it was the power that she craved of seeing people suffer until they were at their weakest point. Sam was emotionally vulnerable, but he was playing the part of the stronger little brother for the other half of his family after the man was growing weak. She was gonna eat the false confidence up. Once she got her hands on the man, you had a feeling he would be too mentally broken to save himself. “She’s gonna slaughter you.”

“Maybe she will,” Sam argued with you. “Maybe she won’t.”

“So what?” Dean asked his little brother. “You think you can take her?”

“Only one way to find out, guys, and I say bring her on.” Sam said with a confidence to match the move he was about to pull. You stood across the room and crossed your arms over your chest, upset at what the man was about to do. Dean tried to argue with his little brother, but it seemed the man had a feeling this conversation was going to turn into another subject you hadn’t brushed upon in months. “You think I’ll do it, don’t you, Dean? You think I’ll go dark side.”

“Yes! Okay? Yes. The way you’ve been acting lately? The things you’ve been doing?” Dean admitted the truth that he had been dancing around since he found out about the demon blood. He hadn’t been pleased with it at first and his brother’s past times. When he started to become ever so slightly used to it, a certain situation tipped him over the edge, not sure what to think of Sam anymore. And from the surprised look that crossed Sam’s expression, it seemed his little secret was out. “Oh, I know. How you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing, like you were swatting a fly. Cas told us, okay?”

“What else did he tell you?” Sam asked, a bit hesitant to find out.

“Nothing I don’t already know. That you’ve been using your psychic crap, and you’ve been getting stronger.“ Dean said, letting his frustration and anger of the situation be known from the tone of his voice. You noticed that Sam seemed to be growing different, like he wasn’t arguing with his brother, but a terrible secret he’d been keeping was out in the world. And he was waiting for either one of you to finally say it. "We don’t know how, we just know you are.”

“It’s not what you think.” Sam tried to defend himself, but Dean wasn’t having it.

“Then what is it, Sam?” Dean questioned him. “Cause I’m at a total loss.”

Sam remained silent, for the answer that you and his brother wanted to know was at the tip of his tongue, he could admit everything. But it was the backlash and disgust that kept him from saying anything. Dean had enough of this conversation, mumbling something about needing some fresh air, he stalked to the motel door and roughly threw the duffel bag down on a chair. He swung open the door and slammed it shut, leaving you and Sam alone in a moment of awkward silence. You were tempted yourself to try and make the man open up about changing his decision. But you knew that what Chuck written would come true, and Sam was stubborn, he would cling to his decision, no matter what consequences that may come of it. You were stubborn, too. There was no way you were going to give up on finding a loophole, even if it meant of asking help from someone you wouldn’t call a friend. He owed you a favor or two from what he put you through.

Just one problem arises: How the hell were you going to make contact with Cas?

\+ + + 

You found yourself standing in the middle of the parking lot without another soul around, and quite unsure what you were doing. Castiel always appeared out of thin air when you least expected it. He was still a strange creature to you, and while you were still unsure how to reach him, there was a possible method you knew about. And that had been praying. It was sort of taboo for you. Nobody out in the world had a clear explanation if God was real or not, if whatever religion they believed was true. But you knew he was. You discovered just months ago that angels and God was real, not to mention the Devil and demons. You kicked your foot in front of you when you saw saw a small pebble reflected from the florescent lights behind. Only once had you prayed to a higher power and meant it, when you were brought back from the dead and buried alive with no option of getting out of the wooden pine box. You prayed for someone to save you from going back to Hell. And while demons might have dug you up, it was Castiel who admitted that he heard you, he sent a family that reminded you of your own to help guide you back to the real world. You wondered if he was going to be helpful like he’d been tonight.

“Well, I feel stupid doing this. But I am fresh out of options.” You admitted to only yourself. You let out a quiet sigh as you glanced up to the night sky, suddenly you felt awkward, unsure if this was going to work at all. “Look, I need some help. If you’re listening, get your fluffy ass down here and fix this. And if you don’t wanna do it for me, do it for Dean’s sake, okay? He’s scared. I know he is. But he won’t admit to it. Just…point me in the direction of what to do. Please.“

You were greeted with silence when you stopped speaking, making you feel a bit like a fool for trying something different. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you were about to admit defeat as you dropped your arms to your side and step back into the motel, but it seemed that he was listening, after all. "Prayer is a sign of faith.” You heard a voice coming from behind you, making you turn around on your heels to see that it was Cas. For the first time since meeting him, you were happy to see him. “This is a good thing, Y/N.”

“So does that mean you’ll help us?” You found yourself asking him with a bit of hopefulness lingering in your voice.

“I’m not sure what I can do.” Cas admitted with a solemn tone when he gave you the answer you didn’t want to hear.

“Drag Sam out of here—now.” You didn’t listen to what he was saying, instead you threw commands at him, urging him to comply. “Before Lilith shows up.”

“It’s a prophecy. I can’t interfere.” Cas explained to you yet again, and while his expression seemed to be pained from what he had to tell you, it still didn’t help the frustration you were starting to feel tip over at the edge. You stared at him with such a cold glare, you wondered if it would be enough for him to just drop dead. Before you could stop yourself, you were letting your emotions get the best of you, and admitting how you felt about him since the day you met him.

“You have tested me and thrown me every which way. Do I have to remind you that you were the one who insisted on making me leave when you first met me? Which caused Lilith to track me down a forced me to drink her blood? Not to mention the wonderful torture session with Alastair and being thrown back in time for the hell of it! You have no right to stand there and tell me you can’t help. You owe me, damnit.” You wanted to scream on the top of your lungs, but your tone came out eerily calm. You walked forward to the angel at a slow pace until you were less than a foot away from him. While he tried to look away from him, you were far from done. "I am asking for one thing from you. That’s all. And if you don’t want to help me, do it for Dean. He would be beyond crushed if something were to happen to Sam. Please.”

The angel fell silent for a moment, he found himself struggling of how to solve this problem, but all you were seeing was someone who was hesitant at breaking his command. And it was only making your temper far worse when he spoke up again. “What you’re asking, it’s,” Castiel repeated the same overused excuse one more time. “Not within my power to do.”

"Why? Because it’s ‘Divine Prophecy’?” You questioned the angel. He slowly nodded his head, you let out a scoff and rolled your eyes. “So, what. We’re supposed to sit around and wait for it to happen?”

The long pause of silence made you realize his answer was still yes. You stared at him with a look of disbelief, for a sliver of a second, you wondered if he would be the same angel who helped you out when you were near the edge of death again. But all you were graced with was the same angel who was all the same from the others you met, the same spineless creatures who were afraid of breaking a command with the dicks who called themselves the higher up. “I’m sorry.”

“Screw you.” The two words came out of your mouth before you could stop it, but you didn’t care. No look of sympathy from him was going to help the anger you were feeling for him. You decided to give him a bit of a threat. “If you don’t help me now and Sam dies tonight, I’m done. I don’t wanna be nice anymore. Maybe I’ll join Lilith and help make sure the world ends. Because what the hell? It’s not like I would have anything else to live for.”

You looked at the angel straight in the eye before you were walking off, giving him a chance to think about what you’d proposed. Deep down you would never do anything to further Lilith’s plan, but you needed to get him scared, and it did. He called your name out when you passed the second door of the motel, rolling your eyes, you ignored him once more. "Y/N!” He shouted your name, you unwillingly stopped in your tracks and turned around, wondering what he was going to say when you heard the urgency in his voice. “You must understand why I can’t intercede. Prophets are very special. They’re protected.”

“Yea.” You mumbled to him with another eye roll at the information you heard at least a dozen times by now. “I kind of figured that one out on my own.”

“If anything threatens a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat.” He explained to you, making the wheels in your head to start turning for a possible plan. Chuck was the bait you were looking for, with the perfect weapon attached to him that would act like a protective guard dog after you dangled him in front of Lilith.

“Archangels are fierce. They’re absolute. They’re Heaven’s most terrifying weapon.”

“And these archangels, they’re tied to prophets?” You presumed, the angel answered by nodding his head. You took a step forward to him, wanting to clear on this plan before you jumped into something dangerous. “So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon—”

"Then the most fearsome wrath of Heaven would rain down on that demon.” Castiel said. You raised a brow at him with curiosity of the information that you were given. The angel turned his head away from you as his gaze lingered upward. You couldn’t help yourself but feel your smile grow at the bit of sass in his voice. “Just so you understand why I can’t help, Y/N.”

The angel nodded, “Good luck.”

\+ + +

You tracked down Dean and gave him little choice of making him drive to Chuck’s house. On the way there, you filled him in on the information that could help Sam about the archangel that was attached to his hip. You weren’t the type to dangle innocent people in front of danger, but you knew Chuck wasn’t going to be after what Cas told you. It took a few minutes before you found the same rundown house with a few lights on, signaling you that the author was home. You forced Dean into staying inside the Impala after how he’d lost his temper with the man earlier today. You thought a little friendly chat would be good, and if that didn’t work, you’d drag him out kicking and screaming if you had to. Knocking on the door wasn’t an option, you didn’t have the time to bargain your way into being welcomed back into Chuck’s house. When the door was unlocked after you tested it, you barged in without a proper hello.

Chuck was minding his own business, unaware of what was going on; he was sitting on his couch with a drink in his hand and enjoyed the silence as he watched TV. He had no idea you were walking across his living room until he heard the floorboard squeak underneath your weight, the man looked at you with a surprised expression as he peered upward from the blanket he was wrapped up in. “What are you doing here, Y/N?” He asked you. “I didn’t write this.”

“Come on, big boy.” You greeted him by grabbing the drink out of his hand set it down on the coffee table all before you were forcing him off the couch and up on his feet. “I need you to come with me.”

“What? Where?”

“To the motel where Sam is.”

The man stared at you with a terrified expression from what you were asking of him, "That’s where Lilith is.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You said. “I need you to stop her.”

“Are you insane? Lilith?” Chuck questioned you. He ripped his arm away from your grip and took a step back, suddenly wanting to be far away from you as possible. “I know what she’s capable of, Y/N—I wrote her.”

“Writing is different from experiencing what the bitch is capable of. Don’t forget she kidnapped me, tricked me into being possessed by her and then forced me to watch Dean get mauled to death by hellhounds!” You raised your voice at him without a second thought. People were pushing your buttons at the lack of cooperation they were giving you. He stared at you, still not breaking away from his glare that he was using to hide his trembling fear. You let out a sigh when you realized how harsh you were being on the man. Looking at him straight in the eye with a more comforting and calm position, you tried again to boost up his confidence. "All right, listen to me. You have an archangel tethered to you, okay? Out of anyone here, you’re safe as can be. All you have to do is show up and boom! Lilith is dead and the day is saved.”

"But, I-I-I-I-I haven’t seen that yet.” Chuck stuttered out, his brain was starting to presume all the worst case scenarios if you were wrong. “T-The story—”

“Chuck,” You stopped him there and admired a very crucial detail to him that would make him say yes to this disastrous situation he was at fault for starting. “You’re the only shot that Dean and I have left.”

“But,” He looked at you with widening eyes. “I’m just a writer.”

“So, what? This isn’t a story anymore, Chuck. This is real! And you’re in it! You’re the only one who can really stop Lilith. We need your help.” You pleaded with the man best as you could, hoping the desperation that was creeping into your tone would be good enough for him to realize how dire the situation was. You went the extra mile by reaching out an arm and squeezing his shoulder for reassurance. “Now, I need you to come with me and fight. I promise you that you’ll be safe. And you won’t be alone. Dean and I will be at your side.”

Chuck listened to your words that you spoken to him, he made you believe that he was actually going to help you Taking a handful of steps away from you until he was at the other end of the couch, you watched as he turned around and looked at you. He gave his answer–by shooting down your idea without a second of hesitance for what the consequences might be. “No friggin way. Are you crazy? I thought you were supposed to be the logical one here.”

You stayed silent for a second or two, letting Chuck reach for his drink from the table and take a few sips to calm his shaking nerves. You tried your way of being friendly and sweet, now you weren’t taking a chance. “Okay, well, then, how about this?” You took a few steps forward to the man and changed your tone so it matched better with the threat you were about to give him. “You’re making me very angry. And if you don’t get in the damn car, I’ll make use of the gun that I have in my pocket. And if you still wanna be a stubborn bastard, I’ll blow your brains out.”

"I thought you said I was protected by an archangel.” Chuck said as he gave you a smirk, thinking he was calling out your bluff.

“I did. But I’m wondering who’s quicker on the draw.” You said, shrugging your shoulders at making the man presume you weren’t afraid to go against someone that was more powerful than you’d come across. It took all of a moment’s time before you could see the defeat that crossed Chuck’s expression when he realized you were serious, making him cornered, and putting the man exactly where you needed him. “Let’s go, Chuck.”

\+ + +

It didn’t take long to arrive back to the motel. You nearly tore out of your seat when the Impala parked in front of the room, barely giving Dean time turn off the engine. All of you found the same room number you left Sam in just under an hour ago. Dean didn’t waste a chance as he ripped open the door, forcing Chuck to stumble inside after he pushed the man to face the sight he’d once dreamed about. You ran inside the room to see the uncomfortable sight of Lilith’s possessed body, a pretty blonde, straddling Sam by the waist. But the sight wasn’t full of passion–for she had the demon knife hovering in the air, as if she was about to stab him. Dean slammed the door behind him, breaking Chuck out of his frightened trance, and the most awkward sentence to fall from his mouth to announce his presence.

“I am the prophet Chuck!”

Lilith peered over her shoulder and stared at the man, “You’ve got to be joking.”

It seemed the demon lost interest in Sam, for her full attention was brought to Chuck, and her thirst to harm the man before working her way through all of you. She took a step forward to him, but it seemed that was far as she could go from what happened next that took all of you by surprise. The entire room began to violently shake as if there was an earthquake going on right below your feet; picture frames were knocked off as drywall began to crack down and fall to the floor. Whatever was coming sure was trying hard to make a great impression. Lilith pretended not to be scared from what was going on around her, but you could see her confidence was starting to go down ever so slightly.

“This is no joke. See, Chuck here’s got an archangel on his shoulder.” Dean explained to the demon, but Lilith thought nothing more of it as she tested by the threat as she took a few steps forward. The shaking intensified as there was a sudden flash of bright light that came from the window behind you, making the demon squint in discomfort. “You’ve got about ten seconds before this room is full of wrath and you’re a piece of charcoal. You sure you want to tangle with that?”

Lilith seemed to weigh her options for a long moment as she ignored the tumbling down ceiling that fell around her, her gaze lingered to Sam as she contemplated on telling you and his brother of what he was willing to do. But it wasn’t worth it. The demon opened her mouth, and from all of the chaos erupting around you, her screams echoed through the motel as she escaped through the cracked window, the possessed body she’d used dropped to the carpet, the demon knife laid a few inches from the woman’s unconscious body. It took a few moments or so until the room dropped to a complete silence, the shaking stopped as you watched the bright light from outside disappear from sight, making it as if nothing happened.

\+ + +

The downside; Lilith was still in the wind, plotting her revenge after what you and the boys put her through. The good news was that Sam was safe and Chuck was back at home, drinking himself to a deep slumber after what you put him through. But it was for the greater good, and he might feel a bit better knowing he had someone looking out for him. You left the motel in shambles, with broken walls and a dead body on the floor, giving the local police quite a case that would leave them scratching their heads from what happened here. You and the brothers were back on the open road, with nothing more than a busted rear window. Even though you were freezing cold from the breeze that escaped through the rattling tarp, you would call this a job well done. But it seemed that Sam didn’t feel that way. He admitted to you and his brother about why Lilith wanted to see him. The demon struck up a position that was too good to be true—a way out of the current messy situation at hand Dean started and you were involuntarily apart of it more than you would have liked to admitted.

“So, a deal, huh?” Dean asked his little brother. He glanced away from the empty and dark road to take a look at the man, who quietly answered with a yes, seeming to presume the demon was true to her word. “To call the whole thing off–angels, seals, Lucifer rising, the whole nine yards?”

"That was the gist of it.” Sam mumbled. You thought a deal like that would be too good to be true. But you kept your opinion to yourself as you put your attention to the backseat window and crossed your arms over your chest to keep yourself warm. For the most part it was silence, all though, Dean made the slightest noise underneath his breath, one of his ticks that made you realize he was thinking to himself. Sam looked over at his brother when he heard the noise himself. “What?”

“You didn’t think once about taking it?” Dean wondered.

“You kidding me? You and Y/N spent all day trying to talk me off the Lilith track.” Sam said. You looked back up at the front of the car when you heard your name. “She would have found some way to weasel out of it. And all of it would have cost us was our lives.”

“Yeah.” Dean mumbled, knowing well enough himself of how the demon liked her deals with a few loopholes she only knew about before the end. All though it would have been for the greater good, there was no denying what might have happened if his brother said yes. “I guess you’re right.”

“Anyway. That’s not the point.” Sam said. You furrowed your brow at what he was talking about, suddenly confused yourself from what he was hinting around. “The point is, she’s scared. I could see it. Lilith is running.”

“Running from what?” You asked.

“Don’t know. But she was telling the truth about one thing.” Sam mumbled. You could suddenly feel a shift inside the atmosphere of the car from what the man said next. “She’s not gonna survive the apocalypse. I’ll make sure of that.”

Since coming back from the dead you always thought that Sam was okay. You couldn’t judge him about the demon blood and him trying to make use of it. While Dean had been skeptical since the first day, you tried your hardest to think his younger brother was still the same man at heart. For the four months he’d been alone, you understood that Sam had gone down a bad path, but you honestly thought he pulled himself out of it. But after listening to him speak about Lilith, for some reason, it wasn’t like the other times before. It was almost too…cynical to be him. Adding in with what he could do now with the demon blood, somehow getting stronger, you had a strange feeling that was starting to sit in the deep pit of your stomach. Maybe there was more Sam wasn’t telling you, maybe not.


	19. Jump the Shark.

If there was one thing you hated about being on the road for days at a time, drifting from state to state to find a job, it had to be the sleeping arrangements inside the Impala. You didn’t mind the backseat, for you’d grown to love the comfort of being able to rest your entire body across the seats and fall asleep to the vibrations of the engine. But things became complicated when you and the boys had to take a rest stop if neither one of you had at least a decent amount of sleep. One of the boys would take the backseat, forcing you in the passenger side with the driver, both of you awkwardly trying to find a position that wouldn’t leave you with a sore neck in the morning. It seemed you weren’t lucky today. Sam spent the majority of yesterday driving since the last pitstop for gas driving after Dean started complaining of being too tired. You went up to the passenger side with Sam in the driver’s seat. There was only so much caffine one could down before sleep would come back with a vengeance. Sam found a spot in the middle of nowhere last night to get a few hours of a nap before heading back on the road.

You woke up fifteen minutes ago after sleeping with your legs nearly pressed against your chest after trying to make room for Sam’s gigantic frame. Both of you managed to make it work, you’d gotten a decent amount of sleep after passing out from pure exhaustion. But the neck ache you were feeling after leaning your head against the window wasn’t so pleasant. You sat on the hood of the Impala with Sam standing beside you, both of you enjoying the abandoned lake with its view of the mountains not too far off in the distance. As you rubbed your aching muscles, Sam brushed his teeth, leaving the conversation to a peaceful silence you found yourself content with. It lasted a few more moments before you heard the sound of what appeared to be leather squeaking and muffled groans.

Looking over your shoulder, you noticed that Dean was starting to wake up from his groans and shifts of movement after he realized where he was. He tried to stretch out his limbs as he turned around in the backseat to open up the door, which resulted in him falling out of the car, landing himself into the soft dirt. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a very quiet laugh at how distraught he was. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” You greeted him with a chipper tone, watching as he stretched his legs out and balanced himself against the Impala. He groaned and closed his eyes for a moment, trying his hardest to register that he was awake. “How did you sleep?”

“How do you think?” He questioned you back with a gruff tone. You raised your brows at him from the remark. It wasn’t your fault he slept against the window to try and fit into the backseat. He rubbed his eyes and adjusted himself to being somewhat human again, bringing up an important part of the morning after he heard his stomach every so quietly start to rumble. “I’m starving. Let’s get breakfast.”

“Where?” Sam asked with a slight amused expression on his face. He took the toothbrush out his mouth and glanced around at the beauty of nature, without a single soul around with the exception of the three of you. “We’re like two hours from anything.”

“But I’m hungry now.” Dean complained.

“You’re a child, I swear to God.” You mumbled underneath your breath, prompting Dean to throw a dirty glare at you from the answer he didn’t want to hear. Rolling your eyes, you pointed a thumb over your shoulder at the backseat where Dean had previously occupied a minute before. “There’s probably a sandwich in the cooler still.”

The information made Dean break out into a smile like a child on Christmas. He eagerly headed over to the back seat and leaned in, moving around a few things, he successfully retrieved the crumbled paper bag, the contents were heavy, promising Dean a decent meal to hold him over until all of you gotten into a next town. He opened up the bag and peered inside—but all it took was one whiff before he was gagging, the smell repulsing him. You looked back over at him and gave him a confused expression, knowing everything was still fresh. “It’s tuna, Y/N.” Dean said, you didn’t reply as you glanced back over at the lake.

A brief moment of silence fell between the three of you before it was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone ringing, throwing you all off guard. You checked your phones to see that it wasn’t them, sending Dean to lean back inside the Impala and open the dashboard where he’d kept at least half a dozen old burner phones. When he found the culprit from an old flip phone that was his father’s, he snatched it and started to get out to answer the call, only he found himself moving upwards too fast, prompting him to accidentally bump his head on the roof before standing back up. He looked at the screen to see it was from an unknown phone number he didn’t recognize. Thinking it could have been an old contact, he answered the call.

“Um, who,” The voice from the other end was male, and wasn’t expecting for Dean to answer. “Is this John?”

“He can’t come to the phone. Can I help you?” Dean asked, presuming the meek and shaky voice from the other end must have been a civilian his father had come across through the years. It wasn’t uncommon for them to give out their numbers, just in case a problem came back. They were always a phone call away from a troublesome case.

“No. I really need to talk to John.” The stranger insisted. “This is Adam Milligan. He knows me.”

“Well, sorry to be the one to break this to you, pal, but John died more than two years ago.” Dean explained to the man. You and Sam found yourselves looking over at the oldest Winchester, slightly curious to see who he was talking to. “Who is this?”

The line went dead silent for a few seconds, all before this Adam spoke three startling words: “I’m his son.”

\+ + +

John Winchester was that old Churchill saying; he was a riddle, wrapped in a mystery inside of an enigma. He kept whatever secrets he had away his very small group of hunters he associated with to the children he raised after his wife passed. All though he considered you to be his own daughter after your parents passed, he never told you anything. It seemed the Winchester family was bigger than you or the brothers imagined as of yesterday morning. The phone call that Dean took on John’s old phone was from a nineteen year old named Adam Milligan who lived in a small town called Windom, Minnesota—and claimed to be the illegitimate son of John Winchester.

Everyone took the news with a grain of salt, knowing in this lifestyle, monsters would do just about anything to lure their victims for the slaughter. You were skeptical yourself, thinking that this was some cruel joke a demon or some monster seeking revenge after you killed one of their kind. But it seemed to be the real deal when you found a birth certificate and a paper trail that detailed out his life. It was too good not to be true. When you realized that John might have another son out there, you were mostly in a state of shock, the brothers took the information differently. Sam seemed invested in finding out more after his brother agreed to meet the young man for a formal meeting at a small diner a few minutes into town. You arrived early this morning for a chance to shower and do a bit more of research to feed Sam’s curiosity. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to have been nothing more than dead set on this idea of being a trap. Revenge hadn’t left his mind since. No amount of formal documents or useless facts about this kid would make the man change his mind.

The Impala pulled into the gravel parking lot of the small diner Adam suggested to meet with a few minutes to spare to gather supplies. Dean wasted no time in shutting off the engine and heading to the trunk so he could be prepared for anything. Sam followed behind his brother, his father’s journal and the case file of information about their possible brother in his grip. Watching as Dean unlocked the trunk and lifted up the secret compartment, it was clear the man wasn’t going to be changing his mind. “Dean, look, best Y/N and I can tell, Adam Milligan is real.” Sam tried again to prepare his brother to realize this situation could be very well true. Dean wouldn’t listen to the facts as he grabbed the demon knife and pocketing it. “Um, born in September 29th, 1990 to Kate Milligan. No father listed on the birth certificate. He’s an eagle scout, graduated high school with honors, and currently goes to the University of Wisconsin—biology major, pre-med.”

Dean slammed the trunk and looked at his brother to simply say, “This is a trap.”

You and the younger Winchester shared matching looks of concern when Dean headed first to the front door of the diner, prepared for an attack by someone he kept believing wasn’t human at all. You followed behind Dean after you pulled yourself from your thoughts and stepped inside the rather quiet restaurant, scoping out the place, there was at least a handful of people in the left part of the diner and an older gentleman sitting at the counter enjoying himself a cup of coffee. Dean spotted an empty table in the back that would give all of you enough privacy. Passing by an empty table, Dean snatched another chair, loudly dragging it across the floor until he dropped it at the end of the table that he claimed for the three of you. Settling yourself on the chair, Sam took the window seat as Dean dropped himself in the middle.

“Dean, we’re telling you—this kid checks out.” Sam said, yet again.

“Great, so he’s an actual person on the planet Earth.” Dean brushed off the information and decided to go with a theory that crossed your mind a few times after. But there was another clue that he didn’t hear just yet. "Sucks he’s got a demon in him.“

"Hi. Welcome to Cousin Oliver’s.” A waitress greeted all of you with a friendly smile after spotting you from across the kitchen. She placed down the glasses of water and tried to politely do her job. “Can I—”

"We’re actually waiting on somebody.” Dean mumbled to the woman.

You gave him a glare from how rude he was being, the man didn’t even acknowledge her, his attention kept itself on the front door, not even caring when she scoffed underneath her breath and tossed the menus before heading back to the kitchen. “You don’t need to be a jackass.” You muttered to him. Dean ignored your remark as he reached for the glass of water, when he leaned back in his seat and poured out the content inside the potted plant, you looked at him a bit funny. “What are you—” But it seemed you answered your own question when you saw a silver flask come into your vision for a brief second after Dean pulled it out from his back pocket and began pouring the glass back up again. “Holy water?”

“Yep—one sip of the Jesus juice, this evil bitch is gonna be in a world of hurt.” Dean said, sneaking the cup back to the spot where Adam would sit, across from the boys he would be calling family once he arrived.

“And what if he’s not possessed?” You questioned him, a brow curiously raised for his next theory.

“Then he’s a shapeshifter.” Dean answered. You glanced down at the table to see he was prepared for just about anything supernatural he spent his entire life hunting that walked through the door. He sneakily switched out the restaurant silverware for the set of pure silver he’d used before on shapeshifters. “Look, either way, this thing is gonna bleed. I mean, using Dad as bait? That’s the last mistake of its short, pitiful life.”

You shifted around in your seat when you realized the man was preparing for just about anything. Sam stared at his brother for a moment or so, deciding that it was time to give him the last piece of evidence he found last night. He moved the folder to the table as he opened up their father’s journal, this time, it wasn’t for a monster you were hunting, but for insight on the man’s personal life you didn’t know much more about. “Listen—there’s an entry in Dad’s journal from January of 1990 saying he’s headed to Minnesota to check out a case.” Sam said, flipping through the familiar pages of terrible handwriting you barely could understand and the drawing of monsters John had come across in days. “That’s, roughly, oh, about nine months before the kid was born.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” Sam repeated his brother. He furthered the point along by lightly grabbing ahold of the two shredded pieces of paper. “Next two pages of the journal—torn out.”

“You’re not actually believing this, are you?” Dean asked his brother.

“Look, man I don’t want to believe it, either.” Sam admitted. “I’m just saying it’s possible. I mean, Dad would be gone for weeks at a time, and he wasn’t exactly a monk.”

“I mean, a hunter rolls into town, kills a monster, saves the girl…” You couldn’t help yourself but drive the point home, getting a bit of satisfaction when Dean rolled his eyes from the disturbing image that popped inside his head from your crude example. “Sometimes the girl’s grateful.”

“Well, now I’m thinking about Dad sex. Stop talking.” Dean commanded, but you didn’t for the pure enjoyment of seeing what his reaction would be.

“Maybe he slipped one past the goalie.”

“Dude!”

You could feel yourself letting the slightest smirk of satisfaction spreading across your lips as Dean rolled his eyes once more. The attention was quickly replaced when you heard the bell above the front door ring, signaling that a new customer had arrived. You looked over to see there was a tall figure looming in the front, his back was turned to all of you with a backpack strap hanging off one shoulder, but you had a feeling you knew who it was. Sam called out Adam’s name, sending the stranger to look forward to the three of you. You noticed right away that it was the Adam Milligan you and the boys were waiting for. Adam seemed nervous from his body language, he slowly approached the table and loomed over the empty chair.

“You Sam?” Adam asked.

“Yeah. Uh, this is Dean.” Sam introduced all of you by starting with his brother that sat right next to him, before nodding his head to you. “And that’s our friend, Y/N.”

You exchanged a friendly smile as he muttered a hello. You took notice that Adam seemed a bit in a daze, like something was deeply bothering him. He shrugged off his backpack and tossed it to the floor before taking the empty seat. "So, um…” He pushed his chair closer to the table and shoved his hands into his pocket. You felt strange from the way Adam spoke about John like he was family, but you reminded yourself that he could have been. “How’d you know my dad?”

“Uh, we worked together.” Sam explained to the younger man.

“Oh.” Adam muttered. “How did he die?”

“On the job.” Sam said, keeping the conversation going with a polite and friendly tone.

Adam was thrown off from the information, he gave the man a slightly confused look. He couldn’t help himself but ask, “He was a mechanic, right?”

“A car fell on him.” Dean answered with a rather brute tone. You turned your gaze away for a moment, finding yourself on the verge of throwing him a dirty glare, but you refrained yourself when you saw the waitress come back with another glass of water for Adam, but Dean snatched it away from the young man could claim it. She gave him a look, he returned it with a smile and a cheap excuse. “Oh, I’ll take that. I am very thirsty.”

Adam seemed to have been a regular here or shared a friendship with the waitress, he ordered the usual meal he gotten here before from her, giving a smile and a nod, she disappeared once more. You shifted your gaze away from the woman as you looked back to Adam, noticing that he reached out a hand from his pocket to grab the glass of water that had been in front of him, not knowing it was filled with holy water. You watched as he picked up the glass and mindlessly took a sip of the drink—he swallowed it down. There was no smoke or violent coughing, no glass shattering across the floor from the surprise attack the supposed demon that was riding his body. He just put the drink back down to the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and leaned back in your seat, knowing you could safely cross demon possession off the list.

“So,” Sam found himself back into reality after intently watching the scene unfold. He continued on the conversation, as if nothing happened. "So, when’s the last time you—you saw John?”

“I don’t even know. It’s…a couple years.” Adam said.

“Why did you decide to call him now?” You asked the younger man.

Dean didn’t contribute to the conversation. He kept himself silent and stared intently at the man sitting across from him. Nobody seemed to notice when he slowly pulled out the loaded pistol from his jacket and hid it underneath the table, he pointed the barrel of the gun straight at Adam with his index finger on the trigger.

“I didn’t know who else to call. He’s the only family I got.” Adam admitted, prompting you and Sam to look at him ever so slightly different, thrown off from the information. He shifted around in his seat as the familiar worrisome expression settled back into his face. “My mom is missing.”

“Really? I’m sorry.” Sam said. It wasn’t hard for him to feel empathic to the kid, he’d known too well how it felt to have an absent parent in his life. But he had a feeling his situation was a bit different with Adam’s mother. “Uh, for how long?”

“It’s tragic—really.” Dean cut into the conversation, not seeming to feel as his brother did. “But if you’re John’s kid, how come we’ve never heard of you?”

“Cause John and me didn’t really know each other. Not until a few years ago, anyway.” Adam said. You looked at him with a bit of a confused look from what he admitted, you asked him what he meant by that. “My mom never talked about him. I knew some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Dean questioned the man.

Adam seemed hesitant at first, he shifted around in his seat as his tongue poked in the inside of his cheek. He decided to tell the romantic story of how his parents met to three of you. “My mom’s a nurse, and Dad came into the E.R. pretty torn up—hunting accident or something. And I knew his name—John Winchester.” Adam explained the situation, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s about it. We’re not exactly a nuclear family.”

“Yeah, well, who is these days?” Sam asked, lightening up the mood. He knew himself that his life wasn’t perfect, at least that’s what the two of them shared in common.

“So, when did you, uh,” Dean found himself asking the important question that had been bugging him since Adam sat down right across from him. For a brief second he wondered if this was real, and how long his father kept his secret hidden from everyone. “When did you finally meet him?”

“When I was twelve. My mom had one of his old numbers, and after I begged her—God, twenty four-seven—she finally called him.” Adam said. The memory of his childhood antics made the faintest smile spread across his lips, he didn’t realize that there was a gun still pointed at him from his oldest brother, who remained skeptical. “God, when John heard he had a son, he raced to town. I mean, he dropped everything. He drove all night.”

“Well, that’s heartwarming.” Dean replied with a sarcastic tone. The conversation took a pause for a moment when the food Adam ordered came. Adam looked down at his meal before the three of you, he politely asked if it was all right to eat. “No, please—dig in.”

Adam didn’t seem to notice that he was still being put to the test, your eyes drifting to the silverware Dean switched out. He didn’t grabbed any utensils at first, instead he reached for the paper napkin and placed it across his lap. When he reached for the fork and knife, Dean reached his thumb to the safety, waiting for the moment when the kid would let out a scream of pain from the silver that touched his skin and make it burn, easily putting this situation to bed as he presumed that all of this was, in fact, a trap. Adam grabbed the fork and knife…as if nothing was wrong. His skin didn’t sizzle or cry out in pain, sending the utensils crashing down to the ceramic plate to make a clanking sound like you imagined. He continued on talking as he started to cut up his food, his mood seeming to change into a more happier one as he discussed his relationship with his father.

“He would swing by once a year or so, you know, when he could. But still,” Adam put the first piece of food into his mouth, Dean let out a frustrated sigh as he cocked the gun back to the safety before returning it back to his jacket after he realized the kid was harmless. “He taught me poker and pool and even bought me my first beer when I was fifteen. And, uh, he showed me how to drive. Dad—he had this beautiful ‘67 Impala.”

"Oh, this is crap.” Dean snapped. He couldn’t sit here anymore and pretend like everything was okay. He knew something was wrong about this situation. If he really had a brother out there for all these years, his father wouldn’t have hidden him away from his own children. Enraged with anger, he found himself blinded with envy he didn’t realize was even there. Dean leaned forward in his seat and placed his elbows on the table, his green eyes focused on the kid, wanting to end this charade of made up stories about a man Adam barely knew. “You know what—you’re lying.”

Adam looked at the man a bit strangely, wondering where the hostility suddenly came from. “No, I’m not.” He said, defending himself from the accusation.

“Uh, yeah, you are.” Dean argued with him.

“I’m sorry,” Adam’s tone changed as he looked at Dean with a rather angered expression from what was going on. To the both of them, they were just strangers, unknowing of what the truth really was. “But who the hell are you to call me a liar?”

"We’re John Winchester’s sons, that’s who.” Dean said, proudly admitting it. He gestured a thumb to himself before pointing it over at his little brother, who seemed modified from what was going on here, and was hopeful the reveal would come out a bit smoother than this. “We are his sons.”

Adam was thrown through a loop from the information that was delivered to him. You could see his mood change quickly, his brows raised as his eyes went a bit wider, he looked at both of the men sitting across from you with a happy expression. You must have thought this was the best thing to happen to him this week, for being an only child all of his entire life. Only to learn in just a few seconds his small family was wider than he could ever imagine by learning of his older brothers. “I’ve got brothers?” He asked, seeming too dumbfounded to say anything else.

“No, you don’t have brothers.” Dean hissed at the kid. “Look, man, I don’t know if you’re a hunter or what kind of game you’re playing.”

“I have never been hunting in my life.” Adam defend himself.

“Whatever. I’m out of here.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. Pushing himself out of his seat, he glanced over at his little brother before dropping his gaze to you. “Come on, guys.”

You remained in your seat, contemplating on where you stood in this battle. You understood Dean’s healthy skepticism, in this lifestyle anything and everyone wanted to see you dead, they would use just about any excuse in the book to put you in their sights. But you were finding it hard to push yourself out of your chair and walk out the front door from the paper trail you found on the kid, not to mention the journal and the missing entries. But before anyone could leave, Adam caught your attention again from what he said next.

“I can prove it.”

\+ + +

Adam’s proof was of a picture of him and John himself. You stared at the frame of a younger Adam from his teenaged years and the familiar John Winchester, with an actual grin across his face. You stared at the picture for the longest time with a baffled expression on your face. None of you could deny that Adam was another Winchester, even you could see the small resemblances from the both of them. Part of you wondered when the last time you saw John look so happy like he was in the picture. The man you knew for the past ten years, and from the faint memories of your toddler days, was a man that seemed tired, drowned in his own personal battle. There were smiles and good moments here and there, but that was because of a hunt that went well, or one of the boys did something that made him proud. Dean stood next to you with the frame in his grip, his eyes never leaving the picture. The envy inside him was growing stronger.

“He took you to a baseball game?” Dean asked, seeming a bit surprised himself from the normal activity his father had done with someone else.

“Yeah, when I turned fourteen.” Adam said with a smile. Dean glanced up at the man, he returned it with a nod and the slight snarling frown, you could see the jealousy he wouldn’t admit to cross his face. “Dad was around for a few of my birthdays.”

“September 29th, 2004.” Sam stood next to you with his father’s journal. You glanced over to see what he was pointing at. It was a small entry that you had to squint at to make sense of. “One word—’Minnesota.’”

Again, just furthering the point that this was real—John had another son, and for seven long years, he didn’t tell anyone about it. He pretended to be a normal father to Adam, abandoning his old children, as if they didn’t exist. You could see that Dean was taking this the hardest. He continued to stare at the picture and try to keep this conversation civil, but the same question slipped out from his mouth, this time, the jealousy clear in his tone. “He took you to a freakin’ baseball game?”

“Yeah.” Adam said, shrugging it off. “Why? What did Dad do with you on your birthday?”

Dean scoffed at the question and looked away after he handed the picture frame back to Adam. You glanced upwards at the man and gave him a look, wondering if he was going to be okay. “Adam,” You directed your attention back to the kid to keep this conversation going back to the reason why all of this started. It was strange to look at him like another Winchester, but you would get used to it eventually. “You said you called your dad because your mom was missing. How long has she been gone?”

“Three days.” He answered.

“Who was the last person to see her?” Dean managed to get himself to concentrate enough again to ask another important question to help solve this current problem.

“Mr. Abbinanti, our neighbor.” Adam said. You leaned over slightly to see there was another picture across the room of John and who you presumed was Kate, Adam’s mother. Both of them were embraced with a smile, almost fooling you into believing they were a happy couple. “He saw her come home Tuesday night, but she never showed up to work on Wednesday.”

“Did you call the police?” You asked, looking away from the picture.

“Mom’s supervisor at the hospital did. And then I drove down here fast as I could.” Adam explained. You could see that he was overcome with guilt from what happened to his mother. All though he was at college, he still felt personally responsible for leaving her alone when he was away. “I should have been here.” 

“What’d the, uh,” Dean cleared his throat, trying his hardest to act normal. He even went the extra mile and forced his lips into a smile, trying his hardest to comfort his new little brother. “What’d the cops say?”

“They, uh, they searched the house. They didn’t find anything.” Adam admitted. You could see that the brothers shared one thing in common, the fear of having a parent that went missing without a trace. John went silent for weeks at a time, but you were worried every single second. Now that Adam was in the same situation, you couldn’t help yourself but help the best you could. “She wouldn’t leave without telling anybody. It’s like she just dropped off the face of the Earth, you know?”

“Yeah, we know how that feels.” You mumbled to him.

\+ + +

Searching the house was the first thing you and the boys decided to do. Dean took the upstairs to see if he could find anything usual the police might have missed as you scanned the house for any possible EMF or traces of sulfur to see if a demon could have responsible for this. The cause of death for Winchesters and your own parents was because of demons, you could only presume one figured out the truth before you did and decided to have a bit of fun. Sam headed off into town to figure out why John was here in the first place. You kept to yourself, unsure of where Adam had wandered off to. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as you only heard the soft buzzing of the reader as you passed through the kitchen where Adam said his mother frequently entered the house through after she got home from work. You seemed lost in thought of searching, you didn’t realize someone was standing in the doorway of the kitchen until you turned around. Seeing Adam made you jump a few inches in the air, one hand holding the reader slipped behind your back as the other rested against your chest to feel your racing heart.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were there.” You apologized, giving the kid a friendly smile. You shoved the reader into your back pocket, pretending as if you were out here for a different reason to keep Adam from raising suspicion of what was going on. “I was just looking around. Dean mentioned to me about your mom’s nightstand being knocked over in her bedroom. But that seemed to be the only real thing out of place. Was there anything else?”

“Oh, not really. The sheriff said there’s no sign of a break in.” Adam said, prompting to you let out the slightest scoff. “What—you think the cops missed something?”

“Maybe.” You said, shrugging your shoulders as you cautiously glanced around the kitchen to see if there was anything the police might have brushed off as ordinary. “They don’t have my eyes.”

“I thought you said the boys were mechanics.” Adam said. He seemed thrown off from what you mentioned. You stopped in your tracks from the situation you put yourself in. But you nodded your head in agreement, making him satisfied with the answer. There was a brief silence that fell in the room before Adam spoke up once more. “Hey, Y/N, uh, how did you know my dad?”

“He was an old family friend. I’ve known John and the boys my entire life. They’re practically my own family.” You admitted to him with the smallest smile on your lips, finding it rather easy to lie about a false life for Adam to believe. “John took me in after my mom passed away when I was sixteen. He gave me a job at the mechanic shop. Filing and paperwork, you know, to keep me busy.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Adam said in a rather quiet tone. You didn’t think it was the best thing to say when his own mother was missing, but he didn’t seem to linger on the subject for long before he was jumping to another. “So you could say that you knew him pretty well. Do you think you could tell me more about my dad?”

You fell silent for a moment from the question that you were tempted to answer. Adam might have gotten rare glimpses of the man that you never saw. But it wasn’t your place to give him personal information. John wasn’t your father, despite knowing he always viewed you as a daughter from how protective he’d gotten over you, especially when you started hunting. If Adam was desperate to see a different side of his father, he would have to ask his two older brothers. Speaking of which, you looked away from the man when you heard footsteps across the floorboard, Dean had come back from the bedroom, Sam was quietly trailing behind with a piece of paper. With the nod of the head, you were excusing yourself away from Adam, following behind the boys as they headed to another part of the house for some privacy.

“You talk to the cops?” Dean asked his little brother in a hush tone.

“Yeah. Like Adam said, no leads on his mom.” Sam said. You didn’t seem too shocked from the news, there wasn’t much here for them to go by. But for the three of you, however, had a possible lead. Sam held up the paper he was holding, you glanced down to see that it was a newspaper clipping of a front page article. “But I did find this. In 1990, there were seventeen grave robberies in windom.”

“You think that’s why John came through?” You wondered.

“I’d say so.” Sam said. He reached over an arm and pointed at the grainy black and white photograph of the crime scene and directed your eyesight to the top left of it. “Check it out.”

You examined the photograph for a moment to see that it was dated back from the quality and faded details after years, it was the first clue of what his father was doing here in the first place. Most of your attention was kept on the scenery of cops and freshly dug up graves, the familiar police tape cordoned off the civilians that you could only see the back of their heads, but when you spotted a familiar face in the back of the crowed, you leaned forward slightly to make sure you were clear on who you saw. John was in the way back corner, hiding behind a tree to keep himself hidden, but not well enough for the photograph to accidentally catch the hunter. You glanced up at Sam and raised a brow, wondering what happened, the headline of seventeen missing bodies wasn’t a pleasant sounding hunt.

Dean let out a soft chuckle when he spotted his father lurking in the distance, “All right, so, if he was bunting something, what?”

“No idea—those were the pages he tore out from the journal.” Sam said, dragging the three of you to another possible dead end, at least, the personal reasons and experiences John went through. “But last month the corpse-snatching started up again—three bodies from the local cemetery.”

“So whatever he was after, he didn’t kill it.” Dean said, seeming to believe that’s what happened.

John might have gotten wounded bad enough to hand himself in the emergency room where he met Kate, one thing lead to another, his nights were filled with a much different priority. You had no idea what the creature was, but it was back after almost two decades, and it seemed their appetite was craving something a bit more tastier. Maybe this had to do with Kate’s disappearance. Your felt sick to your stomach at the thought of something eating her corpse, or worse, it slowly feeding off her alive, forcing the poor woman to endure a painful and memorable experience.

“And what—it stepped up its game to fresh meat?” You asked, seeming to wonder there might be a connection to what was going on. “I mean, it’s not a coincidence that Kate just so happens to be missing right when this started up again.”

“I found out there’s someone else reported missing about a week ago.” Sam added. He grabbed the newspaper clipping from his brother to swap it out with a photocopied picture of an older man, he stood with his hands on his hips with a smile. “A local bartender—Joe Barton.”

You and the brothers shared a suspicious glance, wondering if there was a possibility Joe and Kate might have been connected. All of you headed back to the kitchen to where you saw Adam, he leaned against the counter, seeming to be staring off into space for a while. He snapped himself back into reality when he heard your footsteps across the floorboards. Dean held up the photograph for the man to examine. “Hey, does your mom know a Joe Barton?” He asked, Adam shook his head. You let out a small sigh, a little bit hopeful there was a connection to make sense of what was going on. “I, uh, found something strange in your mom’s bedroom. I think we should take a look.”

You headed upstairs with the boys, curious to see what Dean had found, when you stepped inside the bedroom, your eyes wandered around for a moment to see what he found. You looked down at the floor when Dean headed forward to the bed, he pointed out distinct claw marks on the floor, like Kate had been fighting for her life before being dragged away. With the help of Adam, the mattress was tossed off to the side, revealing a small air duct that was big enough for someone of just about any size to crawl through. You glance upwards at the boys, wondering who it was going to be. When neither one of them volunteered, they settled it like mature adults—with game of rock, papers, scissors. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as each of them waved their fist around before revealing their choice. Sam threw rock, Dean did sissors. Cracking the slightest smile, you stepped out of the way when Dean prepared himself with a flashlight and a loaded gun after Sam took the liberty of unscrewing the top to the air vent for his brother.

A few moments later, Dean shimmied his way down to the vents and looked around. It took him only a few minutes to come to the gruesome reality that something bad did happen to Kate. The drying blood with fragments of bone and strands of hair forced him to lead with that conclusion.

\+ + +

You quietly sat at the motel table with your laptop open to a few tabs regarding the recent grave robberies and another one for research to figure out what kind of monster feasted on humans, turns out there was a lot who enjoyed the darker meat. History was repeating itself, that you knew for sure. But it was hard to make heads or tell to see if Kate was still alive. The gruesome discovery Dean had made a few hours painted a picture inside your head that didn’t leave a positive answer of finding her in one piece—if she wasn’t just bones and leftover scraps after the creature was done. You shook the pessimistic thoughts once more out of your head as you leaned in closer to John’s journal to see if you could find any information Sam might have briefed over by accident. Maybe he had come in contact with the same kind of creature before and wrote down what the hell it was. There was no such luck as you flipped through the pages, coming across old entries you read a thousand times before.

You shut the journal for now and turned your attention to your laptop once more, using the silence that fell over you and the brothers a little while ago from your distractions as an excuse to find out what you could be hunting. While you pulled up a new browser and Dean fixated his attention on cleaning a shotgun, the concentration lasted a second before there was a soft knock on the motel door. Furrowing your brow, you looked away from your screen as Sam set down one of the guns he’d been checking to see if it properly worked and set it down on the bed before wandering over to the door. He cautiously twisted the handle before opening the door. Leaning forward in your seat, you noticed your guest was Adam, but before anyone could greet him inside, he brushed past Sam, furious for how you left him.

“Who the hell are you?” Adam questioned all of you with a sharp tone. Sam let out a sigh from seeing the younger man on edge as he shut the door, Dean cautiously laid the towel he was using over the weapons before they were noticed. “And don’t tell me to take it easy, okay? My house is a crime scene and my mom’s probably dead, and you three—well, you tell me to call the cops, but you got to bail before they show? So, who are you really?”

You remained silent on this fight and averted your gaze when Adam looked over at you. There was a secret that he had a right to know about, his innocence of the pure evil that lurked out in the darkness was gone, but you weren’t going to tell him. You just looked outside at the parking lot for a moment. “Cops didn’t know where to look for my mom, Dean, but you did And I heard you talking earlier—something about grave robberies.” Adam was smart like his brothers. He could tell there was nothing very wrong about this. You glanced back over at him when the room fell silent for a moment, you noticed that Adam’s gaze lingered on the barrel of the shotgun that peeked out from the dirty cloth. “You’re not mechanics.” The brothers remained silent, leading Adam to become frustrated from the lack of answers. "I just want to know what’s going on. Please.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the pleading in his voice, the poor boy knew something was wrong here, and this situation was far different from what the police could handle. You still remained without an opinion as Dean shifted his gaze over to his brother who was standing across from the bed, while he thought it would be best to continue lying, Sam couldn’t help himself but tell his own flesh and blood the family secret. “We’re hunters.” Out with the truth, Sam said the two words that would forever change Adam’s life. The oldest brother hissed the man’s name with an aggravated tone for what he’d done. “He deserves to know, Dean.”

“What do you mean, ‘hunters’?” Adam asked with a confused tone.

You ushered for him to sit down on one of the beds after Dean pushed himself up from one and wandered away from the situation that was unfolding. It was never easy giving the talk about the supernatural world, but you had to tell him the truth about his father, and the phony act he put on whenever he was around. You gotten to the basis that demons, spirits, witches and shapeshifters were real creatures that you hunted down. You tried to explain not so common monsters like rugarus and changelings. But you stopped yourself when Adam was staring at the ground, all the color in his face seemed to have drained away from all of the information he was processing. You stood in between the beds as you crossed your arms over your chest, you looked away from the kid as you glanced over at Sam, who was sitting across from him.

“Okay, so…basically,” Adam spoke up, seeming to have found the courage inside of him to finally make sense of the story you told him. The bonus for him was that his father had a rich background in the lifestyle, and his poor mother had succumb to a victim. “You’re saying that every movie monster, every nightmare that I’ve ever had—that’s all real?”

“'Godzilla’s’ just a movie.” Dean said from the table, like he was trying to make the kid feel better.

You cranked your head over your shoulder and gave Dean a look, knowing this wasn’t the proper time to be cracking jokes. But he didn’t seem to care, he nonchalantly was leaned back in the chair with an arm propped on the table. “We hunt them.” You said, directing your attention to Adam once more. “Our parents did before, too. Sort of like the family business.”

The room fell silent, you waited for Adam to start laughing when he thought this was some terrible joke you were pulling on him, or your favorite—he would stare at you like you were the real monster here, still denying the truth as the fear of his mother’s own whereabouts fueled his anger. But you found yourself staring at him with a bit of a strange look when you heard him inhale a deep breath and responded with one word. “Okay.”

“'Okay’?” Dean repeated after the man. “That’s it?”

“What am I supposed to say?” Adam asked, not sure how he should have properly responded.

“That we’re liars, that we’re crazy.” Dean said. He voiced his opinion on his dissatisfaction of what Adam was being put through. And the kid’s response didn’t help his fuming temper. “Nobody just says 'okay.’”

“You’re my brothers. You’re telling the truth, right?” Adam looked over at the oldest Winchester and asked for clarification. Dean couldn’t help himself when he looked at the man a bit strangely, he nodded his head to answer the question. “Then I believe you.” You and Sam seemed to have been content with how the conversation turned out, neither one of you considered it wasn’t normal for Adam to brush the talk like it was nothing more than discussing the weather. The younger man rested his palms against his knees, deciding to change the conversation to something more important. “Now, what took my mom?”

“We’re not sure yet. Something’s in town stealing bodies—living and dead. But we don’t know what.” You explained to him the problems you were facing. “There’s a long list of monsters that fit the description.”

“You think maybe my mom is still alive?” Adam asked, the hopefulness in his voice made you look at him with a sympathetic expression. From what Dean had told you, there was no way in hell to know if Kate was still alive. Best guess was that she was dead after being the monster’s latest meal. Adam got his answer when all of you were eerily silent, your gaze slipped to the ground, knowing how hard it would have been to say maybe when you didn’t know for sure. “Can I help?”

“You can’t.” Dean said with a stern voice. 

“This thing killed my mom. If you’re hunting this thing, I want in.” Adam wasn’t afraid to stand up for himself, he demanded to be apart of the hunt, no matter the danger that lurked in the darkness for him.

Dean gave another firm no. You let out a faint sigh as you contemplated for a moment about the situation at hand. There was no denying he was a Winchester anymore, losing the woman close to him seemed to have been a good gin. You weren’t going to shove Adam right into the spotlight of hunting. But it wouldn’t help to have an extra set of hands when it came to research. From what you read in his files, Adam was a smart kid. “Dean,” You spoke the older Winchester’s name in a calm tone as you turned around in your spot to look at him. “Look, maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Dean questioned you.

“He lost his mother. A little empathy would be nice.” You said, not finding his rising tone of voice to you very pleasent. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at him with a hardening glare. “Maybe we can understand what that feels like.”

“Why do you think Dad never told us about this kid, Y/N? Huh? Why do you think he ripped out the pages?” Dean pushed himself out from the chair and walked over to you, the jounal tightly in his grip as he waved it around in the air. You narrowed your eyes at him, while you tried to defend yourself, he cut you off. “Because he was protecting him!”

“Your dad’s dead, Dean.” You said, as if it didn’t know that.

“That doesn’t matter! He didn’t want Adam to have our lives, okay? Just because you threw yourself into this mess doesn’t mean we’re gonna make the same mistake to him.“ Dean argued with you. "The least you can do is respect the man’s wishes.”

“God, you’re such a selfish bastard!” You couldn’t help yourself but yell at him as you threw your arms up in the ar from frustration. “You learn that you have another brother and this is how you react! Do you know what I would do to have another sibling again? He’s a Winchester, whether you want to admit or not. No matter what John did to protect him, it’s over now!”

"Do I get a say in this?” Adam managed to ask, breaking the argument between the both of you.

“No!” Dean managed to answer him first, only fueling your temper. Adam dropped his gaze to the ground when you glanced down at him, the anger written in your expression as Dean dropped the journal to his brother’s bed, not caring where it landed. When you looked back at the man, you saw that he was heading to the motel door. “Babysit the kid.”

“Where are you going?” You asked him with a frustrated voice.

“I’m going out!”

“Of course you are!”

You managed to respond just as the motel door was slammed shut, making your words into an echo he would probably just brush off. Letting out a frustrated breath, you didn’t seem to notice that Adam was staring at you, seeming rather intrigued from what happened. He looked over at Sam and raised a brow. “Are they always like that?”

“Feels like it to me. They’re like an old married couple. You’d be surprised to know they’ve been only dating for about a year now.” Sam said, his voice dropping to a whisper so you wouldn’t hear him and risk the chance of having another argument spark up again. When he glanced over at you, it seemed you were lost in your own world, conducting a task by shuffling through the duffel bag, searching for something. He let out a chuckle from the expression that crossed Adam’s face from what he learned. “Welcome to the family.”

You arrived back to the men with something cold and heavy in your hands. Adam’s eyes widened slightly to see that you were holding a gun, and you were gesturing for him to take it for now. “Here. Sammy and I are gonna teach you a few things.” You said. The younger man seemed a bit hesitant, mentioning something about the threats his oldest brother had given, but you cut him off. “I know what Dean said. And I don’t care.” Adam reached out a hand and grabbed the gun. He inspected it for a few moments. “I…sort had a situation like this before. I almost became a big sister a long time ago. But it didn’t work out. She was thrown into this lifestyle at a young age and did a lot of bad things before she died. I’ll be damned if I’ll let that happen to you. Because if you’re a Winchester, you’re my family, too.”

\+ + +

Darkness had fallen when you pulled back the curtain to take another look outside at the motel parking lot when Dean was still out, marking him the second hour when he stormed out. You searched the motel parking lot for any sign of the familiar black Impala, but you were greeted with the same sight of cars after you peeked an hour ago after you settled with doing a bit of research. You sat at the table once more with your laptop to see if you could uncover what was going on. Sam took over with giving the basic rundown of the gun—how to load, shoot and keep the safety on so he wouldn’t accidentally shoot someone when the gun was loaded for real. The boys were now sitting on the bed once more, everyone allowed a comfortable silence fall, your concentration was settled back to making a list of all the possible creatures that could be responsible you had scribbled down on a notepad beside you. Placing your elbow on the table and cradling your head, you bit your bottom lip when you narrowed the search to at least six different possibilities.

“Hey, Sam.” You glanced away from your own personal thoughts when you heard Adam speak up. He stopped examining the gun you’d given him and placed it on the bed for safekeeping. All though he seemed a bit hesitant, Sam gave his full attention, curious to see what the man was about to ask. “How did Dad really die?”

‘Demon.” Sam answered.

The response made Adam stop for a second, his mind almost rejecting the idea that demons were real. But he came back around, asking yet another question to satisfy his curiosity about his father and the better half of him that he didn’t know about. “You hunted it down? Got revenge?”

“Dean killed it.” You answered for him. You pushed yourself off from the rickety chair that was starting to make your ass fall asleep from sitting so long on the wooden seat. You headed over to them, letting Sam continue his work by cleaning out the barrel of the shotgun he’d been working on for over an hour now. “The same demon killed my parents. But you don’t have to worry. He’s long gone, rotting in Hell where he belongs.”

“So it’s over for you guys.” Adam said, thinking it was that easy.

“No.” You corrected him. “It’s never over.”

Just as you were thinking about going back to research, you stopped dead in your tracks when the electricity flickered off, plunging the motel room into total darkness. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to your surroundings. You looked forward to see that Sam and Adam were still sitting on the bed, taken back themselves from what happened. You shushed the younger man when you heard a noise coming from somewhere in the room, it sounded like an echo of metal clanking, but you couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Both men jumped up from their spots on the bed when the clear noise of something hitting an obstacle. Whatever this thing was, you had a strong feeling it wasn’t here to say hello. Sam glanced at the bathroom with its door opened the slightest.

“Stay here.” He instructed to the both of you in a whispered voice.

Sam slipped a hand inside his pocket to pull out a few rounds to load the gun. You watched as he cocked the gun and cautiously headed forward to the door. Taking just a second, he he kicked the door wide open with his foot before launching himself inside, sweeping the interior of the small room to see if the threat was inside. Your neck cranked upwards when you heard the continuous sound of scraping metal coming from somewhere in the room, and right above your head. Sam whipped around in his spot and pointed forward, hearing the noise himself. The room fell silent for just a moment, all before the noise erupted again, the echoes coming right across from the same spot Dean had to squeeze himself into when he discovered the claw marks underneath Kate’s bed. Without a second thought, you were grabbing a hold of Adam and making a run for it when you realized it was in the vents of the motel walls. From where the monster was, they could watch your every move.

You made it at least a foot before you heard the sound of the gun going off, Sam trying to take a shot after he discovered himself where the monster was coming from. Before the hunter could become the prey, all of you were stumbling out the door and to the porch of the motel stairs, needing to get out of here before you became the creature’s next meal. Adam took the lead, stumbling down the staircase as you found yourself holding the banister with a death grip, afraid one wrong move and all of you would tumble down. Sam tried to reload the gun as he raced down to keep up with you. But he found it too difficult, settling on loading back up when he hit the ground running with all of you.

“Where’s your car?” You asked Adam.

“Over here.” He pointed out his truck that was just across the way.

You raced across the parking lot, demanding the keys from him when you found Sam still loading the shotgun. When you managed to grab them after Adam tossed them over, you looked back at his old truck, thinking for a brief second about the tight squeeze, but you’d managed. You managed to catch your breath for a second as you struggled to find the right key. Standing at the driver’s side, your shaking hands finally snatched onto the metal key, solving one problem. Just as you slipped the key into the lock, you felt something like a hand wrap around your ankle, pulling the weight from underneath you, taking you as its next victim.

You could feel a scream of terror escape your throat when you felt the ground slip from underneath you, making you roughly flat on your back, the element of surprise from the fall made your head roughly knocked against the pavement. All though the knock to the head deemed you in pain and thrown off your a second, you could feel your senses coming back when you felt yourself being pulled forward. Another noise erupted from you when you realized you were being forced underneath the car, and being dragged forward to the pits of the unknown. Everything happened so fast. You struggled to get yourself free by tugging on your leg, but it only made the creature hold you tighter. You managed to get yourself stable for a second when you slammed your hands against the driver’s side door, keeping yourself from going under. But your force against the car wasn’t strong enough, and as you felt yourself slowly being inched forward, you swore it would take one good tug before you were gone forever.

Before you could become another victim, you felt two pair of strong hands wrap around your body, somehow tugging you back a few inches. But it only made the creature tug harder. You didn’t hear the sound of the Impala’s engine over your racing heartbeat. Dean managed to come right on time to see the disaster unfold. Sam lunged forward and wrapped an arm around your waist, and with Adam’s help, they finally won, dragging you backwards across the pavement. You quickly pressed your legs against your chest, not caring about the throbbing pain inside your ankle from the bruising that was about to form. Dean snatched the discarded gun from the ground and headed for the truck. Without taking a chance, he placed the shotgun underneath and pulled the trigger, disturbing the quiet night that surrounded you. After a moment of the gunshot noise echoing in your ears, you could feel the adrenaline of the situation slowly start to dwindle down. You pressed your palms against the rough and cold pavement before cautiously leaning down to examine underneath the trunk, wondering where the creature had wandered off to. You were only greeted with the ominous darkness that sent a shiver of fear down your spine from what unfolded.

\+ + +

When the truck was pulled back to examine what happened, you were surprised to see that Adam had parked under the sewer grate, the perfect trap. Dean, who was dressed in his Fed clothes, cautiously walked forward to the open sewer with the shotgun, waiting for the monster to pop out at him. But when he looked down at the plunging darkness to the ground underneath, he realized the threat was long gone, and it left something behind. He crouched down on the ground and swiped his finger against the small puddle of a dark substance, when he touched the warm liquid and examined it, he discovered it was blood. A good sign for all of you.

“I winged it.” Dean said. He pushed himself back up and headed forward to the three of you, who were surrounding the Impala. You sat on the warm hood with your legs stretched out all the way, but never letting them dangle off the ground. “Did you see anything, Y/N?”

“No.” You admitted with a small voice. “I couldn’t get a good look.”

“What the hell is this thing?” Dean muttered, unsure of what was going on.

“Why—Who—should we go after it?” Adam asked.

“No, No. In that maze?” Dean shook his head from the idea, knowing that it would have been a dumb idea. You would be in its territory, exactly where the creature wanted you. “That thing is long gone.”

“All right, so we don’t know what it is, but we do know who it’s going after—” Sam spoke up, breaking your concentration away from the truck after you found yourself mesmerized by the sight. Wondering how you managed to get yourself caught in the trap. You forced the jacket Sam offered you closer around your body after the temperature dropped from the last time you’d been out. “But we do know who it’s going after—Joe Barton, Adam’s mom, and Adam.”

“It was under his truck, just waiting for him.” You said. “It set a trap, and I walked right into it.”

“Doesn’t matter. Sam’s right—there’s a pattern. Joe Barton was a cop.” Dean said. You looked over at him from what you were hearing. From the new information that was starting to unfold, you had a feeling the motive was clear as ever. “I’m pretty sure he helped out Dad. So we’ve got him, Dad’s girl…and his son.”

“All the people John knew in town.” You mumbled, nodding your head in agreement from the easy pattern that seemed more like a hit list of victims that the monster wanted gone. “At least we know why it’s back.

“It wants revenge.” Adam whispered.

\+ + +

One thing was for sure, there wasn’t a chance you were going to let Adam stay in town with such a big threat lingering around, waiting for the right moment to seek revenge that had been brewing for almost two decades. You arrived back at the Milligan household and was greeted to the sight of neon yellow police tape crossed over the back door, cautioning anyone who passed by about the active crime scene for a death they would never be able to solve. Dean carelessly ripped off the tape, letting it fall to the concrete steps as he shoved the key inside the lock, twisting it before hearing the deadbolt click back into place. Swinging open the backdoor that lead into the kitchen, he stepped inside first with Adam following behind, he quietly excused himself to his bedroom to pack a bag as instructed. You walked inside the house and placed your hand on the wall, balancing yourself so you wouldn’t shift too weight on your ankle that must have been bruised from being pulled around like a rag doll.

Heading over to the kitchen table, you sat down on one of the chairs and used another to prop up your leg to inspect the damages of your minor wounds. Sam pulled out a chair for himself and sat across from you, he rolled up the pant leg of your jeans and tried to see the extent of the wound from the fluorescence light above. Most of the damage had been reduced to bruises that were turning purple and a little bit of blue. It wasn’t swallows, giving you hope that it wasn’t sprained. “You should be fine by tomorrow. Which is a good thing. Because we shouldn’t leave.” Sam suggests a plan that makes you look at him like he had he’d grown a second head through his shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s stay here, where the kid’s mom got ganked. Good one.” Dean remarks, seeming to believe himself at how crazy his little brother’s plan sounds out loud. Sam says that he’s serious, neither one of you agree. Adam’s life wasn’t going to be risked so easily. You’d been hunting for almost five years and the damn monster nearly got you. There was no way you were going to take that chance. “No, Sam. We’re gonna take the kid, we’re gonna drop him off at Bobby’s, and then all of us are gonna come back here and finish what Dad started.”

“How? We got no leads, no witnesses.” Sam said, listing off a few minor inconveniences that were in your way through this entire hunt. Dean had been wandering around the kitchen, you looked away from your ankle to see that he’d stopped in front of the fridge and stared at the photograph of Adam and his mother. Both of them were happy with their smiling faces as they laid in the middle of a grassy field. Their past selves didn’t know about the very trouble that would be coming for them. “We do have what the thing wants.”

You leaned forward in your seat and glanced over at the hallway outside of the kitchen that lead directly to the staircase directed on your left. Adam was nowhere to be seen, the footsteps you heard creaking on the ceiling indicated he was still packing in his bedroom. “You want to use Adam as bait?” You asked him in a quiet voice, in case he’d stepped inside the room without warning. “I mean, don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?”

"Maybe this thing will come back.” Sam said. “We could train Adam—get him ready.”

“No.” You had to agree with Dean on this one. The risks involved were too much to handle. You were all for training Adam if he wanted to protect himself, learn about the family he never knew about until just yesterday. That’s how you became a hunter, to experience the lifestyle your mother kept hidden from you. While you wouldn’t protest the idea of Adam wanting to do the same, you were against using the poor kid. He wasn’t a worm on a hook to dangle in front of the monster so it would come out of hiding. “He could die, Sam.”

“We all could die, Y/N.” Sam had the audacity to point that fact at you, like you’d never had a brush with death before because of this business. “Even if we do kill this thing, there are tons of other freaks that want revenge—on Dad, on us. What if they find the kid instead and he’s not ready?”

“I’ll do it.” All of you jumped at the unfamiliar voice.

The conversation broke away when you realized the subject was standing in the doorway. Adam had his backpack hanging over his shoulder, and while he looked ready to go, it seemed he decided to change his mind from the new proposition he heard. “Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I want to do it.”

“What you’re getting yourself into, it’s not gonna be easy. It’s dangerous.” You warned him, waiting for the slightest twitch of body language to detect a moment of hesitance he wouldn’t tell you. Adam stood there and nodded his head in agreement for the challenge he was up for. You licked your lips and looked away, knowing there was nothing more than determination and revenge that prove Adam was a Winchester by blood. If Adam wanted to do this, you weren’t going to protest. He had that right to learn about John and the hunting lifestyle he tried to hide, just like you “And the family business keeps growing.“

\+ + +

Training began the very next morning, and if Adam was going to learn how to protect himself, the best way to do so would be learning how to properly shoot a gun. Everyone headed into the middle of the woods in the outskirts of Adam’s backyard where there would be no civilians to worry about or noise complaints from the sound. You watched as a bystander when Sam helped the younger man figure out how to properly hold the weapon before giving a perfect example after using a sign that warned about no trespassing you’d spray painted a bullseye for practice. This brought you back to the times when Dean taught you how to shoot a gun when you were both teeangers. It was a few months after your mom passed, and after learning everything there was about monsters with Sam, you begged Dean to teach you how to properly use a gun, even though they weren’t your favorite weapon of choice. It took you almost two weeks of constant practice before you could get at least get inside the range of a bullseye. Adam was showing to be a good student, he’d gotten two in a row after missing his first shot.

Sam taught Adam a few more useful tricks about using a gun and how to defend himself with an attacker, you kept the young man busy when all of you got back at the house. You lugged out all the books from the trunk and scattered them across the dining room table. The three of you spent a few hours happily learning all about the ABCs of monsters you come across and how to kill them. You covered the basics of demons and spirits, along with shapeshifters, werewolves and witches, giving him their strengths and weaknesses. While you started discussing monsters that could be killed with fire, Sam disrupted you when a story of a past hunt crossed his mind. You propped your elbow into the crook of an open book you’d been previously using an hour ago, but it’d been since discarded after the subject changed. You half-listened to the familiar story Sam was telling, you drifted your gaze away from him for a second, curious to see where Dean had wandered off to.

The man hadn’t said one word to any of you since leaving for this morning. You understood that Dean was upset at the outcome of this situation, he wasn’t keen on dragging someone else into this lifestyle, but he couldn’t hold back a willing participant hellbent on revenge for his late mother. It was what his father done—and what kept Dean going himself to find Yellow Eyes. Adam had every right to learn how to defend himself. When you spotted Dean sitting quietly at the kitchen table, you tried to give him a smile, but he looked away before he could be forced to acknowledge you.

"So,” Sam finished up the story, pulling back your attention as you glanced back over at him. “We lit on fire.”

“With a homemade flamethrower?” Adam asked with astonishment.

“Yeah. They’re easy to build.” Sam said. You narrowed your eyes slightly on him when you saw a different side to him that you’d never quite seen before. This entire situation seemed natural to him, almost like he was embracing being a big brother. He seemed the happiest he’d been in God knows how long. This entire day was a bonding moment, between sharing old hunting stories that Adam listened to with absolute wonder, to teaching him about hunting. Adam was the distraction that he needed, the little brother that would look up to him, like how he looked up to Dean. You could feel the slightest twitch of a smile spread across your lips from the thought. “I’ll show you.”

Adam nodded his head in agreement for the future plans, he shifted forward in his seat as he placed his arms on the table to rest. He overlooked the dusty books that was filled with knowledge he didn’t know was real, about monsters he’d thought were fictional, and far different that he once was taught to believe from novels and movies. “This is some job you guys got, man.” Adam said. There was no denying he was overwhelmed form the information that was being given to him, but he still seemed eager, ready to take on another challenge you would throw his way.

“Being a hunter isn’t a job, Adam. It’s life. You’re pre-med. You got a girlfriend, friends?” Sam asked, the younger man nodded his head. “Not anymore you don’t. If you’re really gonna do this, you can’t have those kinds of connections—ever. They’re weaknesses. You’ll get them killed. That’s the price we pay. You cut ‘em out, and you don’t look back. There’s only one thing you can count on—family.”

“Sam.” You turned your head slightly to see that Dean was staring at the man. It was obvious that he wasn’t exactly pleased from the speech his little brother made. “Can I talk to you?”

The brothers excused themselves from the room, leaving you and Adam alone for the moment after they headed for the hallway just across the way. You shifted your gaze to Adam who was staring at you, curious to what was going on, you shrugged your shoulders. You thought Dean had been reserved and quiet from protesting his personal displeasure for dragging Adam into the lifestyle, even if it was just the tip of the iceberg. Pushed yourself out of your seat, you left Adam as you quietly walked into the hallway. You crossed your arms over your chest and lingered in the distance, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious you were eavesdropping on their private conversation.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked his brother, who responded with a bit of confusion from what the man was hinting around. “'Hunting is life. You can’t have connections.’ Dad gave you that exact same speech, remember? It was just before you ditched us for Standford. You hated Dad for saying that stuff, and now you’re quoting him?”

The relationship between John and Sam was always a bumpy ride, ever since you could remember. The aftermath of the fight was still burned in the back of your mind. Both of them disagreed with how they thought life should go. Sam clung to his beliefs that he should be allowed a normal life, away from hunting, away from the monsters like his mother always wanted for her family. But it seemed that Sam learned his lesson after the string of dead bodies that followed behind after fighting to keep a peaceful life. Instead of fighting what was in his blood, Sam learned to accept and embrace what was given to him.

“Yeah, well, turns out Dad was right.”

Dean tightly furrowed his brow, “Since when?”

“Since always.” Sam said. The answer took you and his older brother by surprise. “Dean, when I look at Adam, you know what I see?”

“A normal kid.” Dean answered with a harsh tone.

“No. Meat.” Sam corrected his brother with the harsh reality he was ignoring to face. “Because to the demons and monsters out there, that’s all he is. I hated Dad for a long time. I did. But now I think I understand. So we didn’t have a dog and white picket fence. So what? Dad did right by us. He taught us how to protect ourselves. Adam deserves the same.”

Dean shook his head in disagreement, “Listen to yourself, man.”

“You think I’m wrong?” Sam asked.

“I think it’s too late for us. This is our life. This is who we are, okay? And it’s fine. I accept that.” Dean admitted. “But with Adam, he’s still got a chance, man. He can go to school. He could become a doctor.”

“What makes Adam so special?”

“What, are you jealous of the kid?”

“Are you?” Sam questioned his brother with a bitter tone. A silence fell between them, neither one of them realized a nerve was hit, causing the brewing tension to only get worse. Sam rolled his eyes in frustration from how he lashed out. “Dean, all this, it’s not real. The dad Adam knew—he wasn’t real. The things out there in the shadows—they are real. The world is coming to an end. That’s real. Everything else is just part of the crap people tell themselves to get through the day.”

“Dad didn’t have a choice with us, okay? But with Adam, he did.” Dean argued with his brother, trying to prove their upbringings compared to the other man sitting in the next room was different. He wasn’t stripped from his innocence like they were. He didn’t have to watch their childhood burn to the ground or learn how to kill monsters while they struggled to do their homework for a school they’d only stay at for a week before moving off to another state. Their father found a balance, and Dean would be damned if he would let the kid fall into the trap. “Adam doesn’t have to be cursed.”

“He’s a Winchester.” Sam bitterly smirked at his remark. “He’s already cursed.”

“No.” Dean disagreed with his brother. “No, whatever’s hunting Adam, I’m gonna find it.”

“You already looked everywhere, Dean.” Sam pointed out.

“Well, then I’ll look again.” Dean said.

You watched as Dean gave his brother one more glance before heading off in the direction to the kitchen. As he tried to pass by you, you reached out and grabbed him by the arm, stopping the man in his tracks. Both of you ignored Sam, who stood at the end of the hall with a grim expression and his arms crossed over his chest. “Do you want me to come along?” You asked him. Dean shook his head, he thought it’d be better if you would stick by Sam’s side, the man needed to keep his two feet on the ground. And some space would do some good for everyone. You let out a sigh and retracted your arm from him. “Be careful, okay?”

“Aren’t I always?”

\+ + +

While Dean was dead set on finding the still unknown monster by himself, the rest of you prepared for just about anything. You salted every window and crack inside the house while the men boarded up all the vents, taking a presumption that was how it liked to get around without letting their victims know. While they could hear the rattling and banging from the vents, the monster rendered them helpless, you presumed that was what happened to Kate before she was dragged down to the vents. It explained the claw marks on the floors. It could be a cannibalistic ghost or a demon whose appetite was stronger than the thirst for bloodshed, whatever the thing was, it wasn’t going to get older than tonight. With everything boarded and salted up, there laid only one entrance to the house. You stood over the open vent and peered down into the darkness, wondering what you could make out from where you were standing.

“All right.” Sam said. He stood next to you with a loaded shotgun in his hand, prepared for any surprise attack that might come up. You could feel the demon knife digging into your back side of your jeans, just in case it turned out to be the work of a very strange and dark soul. “We’ve closed off every other way into the house. If this thing’s coming, it’s coming through there.”

You quickly twisted your neck to look over your shoulder when you heard the sounds of a door creaking open from downstairs before slamming shut. Your face scrunched up in confusion from the unexpected noise. Right off you knew it wasn’t Dean, he would have called beforehand to tell you that he was coming back, either for the lack of finding anything, or the joyous need that he had found the monster and killed it. You thought Adam said something about locking the doors. Looking over at Sam, you raised your brow. “You were saying?”

“Adam?” You could hear the echo of a female voice coming from downstairs. It was a second before the voice called again, but this time, with much more panic. “Adam?”

You hissed out the man’s name when he found himself forgetting all the warnings and lessons you gave him about not falling for his natural instincts. It couldn’t have been his mother, you just knew it. Adam didn’t listen when you called out his name for the fourth time. You pulled out the knife from your back pocket and gripped the railing of the stairs when Adam raced down them, ignoring the heavy footsteps that followed behind him. Sam was following hot on your trail, you heard the cock of the shotgun before your feet landed on the ground to the first floor. You twisted around the corner to see that there was a woman standing in the kitchen. She appeared to be Kate Milligan, the woman you’d seen in the countless photographs from around the house. She was dressed the part with her dirty scrubs and disheveled hair, her perfect expression that was terrified, it was the right appearance to lure in Adam, despite the endless warnings you were giving him.

“It took me, but I got away.” Kate tried to explain to her son. She opened her arms to embrace her son, a wobbly smile spread across her lips when she was reunited with him as they hugged. She sobbed into his chest with relief. “I got away.”

“Adam,” Sam warned the younger man to the final time. He wasn’t playing around anymore when he pointed the loaded shotgun at the woman. “Step away from her.”

“Sam, what the hell?!” Adam didn’t realize the danger he was under. He thought the woman he was standing next to was his own flesh and blood, not the monster that wanted to eat and kill him.

“Damnit,” You snapped at him with frustration clear on your tone . “She’s not your mother!”

“Adam, who—” The monster was doing a pretty damn good job at playing Kate, she looked at the both of you with fear as she shuffled closer to her son. “What is going on?”

You found yourself arguing with Adam, needing the man to listen of the danger he was in. But he wouldn’t stop believing that the woman he was hiding was his flesh and blood. Despite how much you didn’t want to say this, he needed to hear the truth. “There was too much blood.” You told him for the final time. “Your mother’s dead!”

Sam tried to take control of the situation by letting one hand off the gun for just a second. He reached out and tried to grab Adam by the arm, but it proved to be a wrong move. Adam did what naturally came to him, he grabbed the gun from the unsuspecting Sam. When he realized what he’d done, Adam stood there with a bit of shock, he seemed almost unsure of what to do next, who he should believe, for the situation that was quickly unfolding wasn’t something he was expecting to happen. "Shoot it!” Sam ordered, prompting the younger man to do as he was told by swinging the barrel of the gun directly at the woman he wanted to believe was his mother.

Kate threw her hands up, “They’re crazy! It’s me!”

“That’s not your mother!” Sam warned him yet again. Both of you were now struggling to see what was going to happen as Adam struggled to believe who was right. The mother who was pleading her innocence with her fake sobs and crocodile tears. Or the half-brother who he’d only known for a few days. “Shoot it! It’s not human!”

Adam pretended to struggle for a few moment of what the right thing to do was. He waited a second before he dropped his conflicted and scared act all together. You didn’t realize all of this was a mother and son act before it was all too late. Adam’s lips stretched into a smirk as he turned around to face Sam. “I know.” He swiftly used the barrel of the gun and whacked the man right in the temple, hard enough to knock the man unconscious. Before you could swing up the arm that was holding the knife, he was quicker, you felt the sharp pain hit the side of your head, engulfing your vision in darkness before your body hit the ground.

\+ + +

A soft, feminine humming was one of the first things you could recognize when you stirred awake from unconsciousness, the hard surface you were lying on top of was the second. You pressed your eyelids together when you found a stabbing pain in the side of your head erupt, for another brief moment your vision remained total darkness, making you unaware of your new surroundings. You found it odd that your arms were resting between your throbbing head. But when you tried to move, you found it impossible to squirm more than just an inch or so, the ropes around your hands and feet were bound tightly, keeping you in place. Ignoring the pain, you ripped your eyelids open to see that you were tied down to the dining room table, the exact same spot you and Sam were teaching Adam all about the monsters of the supernatural world, not knowing he was one himself before it was too late. You tugged at your restraints with frustration as Kate leaned against the table, keeping herself busy by quietly humming and cleaning the nail beds with a knife she found in the kitchen, not seeming to care too much about you fussing around. From the knots she’d used, there was no way you or Sam were going free anytime soon.

Panic settled in your mind for a brief second when you thought about Sam and where he was. Did they kill him? You cranked your head around the room the best you could, but it was hard from your position, there wasn’t much you could see. But when you heard his voice, you found a brief moment of relief when you spotted him right across from you. A nasty bruise on his upper cheek from where Adam hit him with the shotgun was starting to discolor. He was unwillingly sitting in one of the chairs, you could see the pure frustration and hatred to the woman that stood with her back turned to him, giving no amount of attention to either one of you. Sam tested the bounds that kept his hands behind his back, but they wouldn’t budge, leaving him to let out a grunt from the wasted energy on finding a way out of this. “Hah. Silver. No wonder none of the tests work. You’re not shapeshifters.” Sam spoke, breaking the tense silence that surrounded the room since waking up. “You’re ghouls.”

You’d never had the pleasure of meeting the cannibalistic monster until tonight, where you would probably become its next meal if Dean didn’t get himself here. He would probably be out for most of the night, searching for a lead he would never find, because the enemy had been in plain sight all along. Unless Sam could somehow get himself out of this situation faster than you. There wasn’t much lore you read up on ghouls, so that’s why you didn’t presume it was the monster John had come into contact with decades ago. Kate didn’t seem to like that term. She looked over her shoulder and pointed the blade of the knife at Sam to prove some point she wanted to make.

“You know, I find that term racist.” She remarked, Sam let out a bitter chuckle. Kate pushed herself to her feet and eyed the man for a moment. A smirk spread across her lips as she walked forward, you cranked your neck when you noticed she was hovering over him. She bent down and stepped closer to the hunter until she was mere inches, taking the chance to sniff his flesh and the blood she would soon taste. She circled around until she loomed over him, and because she could, she bent down and playfully nibbled at his ear to get a taste she would have soon enough. “Fresh meat. So much better than what we’re used to.”

“Oh, I should have known. It was the fresh kills that threw me. Ghouls don’t usually go after the living.” Sam said, watching as the monster dressed at Kate stepped away from him. She listened with half interest as she stood in between the two of you, her hands twirling around the knife to keep herself occupied. “See, you’re just filthy scavengers, feeding off the dead—taking down the form of the last corpse you choke down.”

“And their thoughts. And their memories.” Your attention turned away from Kate when you heard another voice echo in the room. Cranking your head to the doorway, you spotted the ghoul which took the appearance of Adam. From the grin that was starting to spread across his lips, it seemed that he was proud of himself for what he’d done of fooling the three of you into the trap he had set up right when he picked up the phone. “Like Adam, for instance.”

“Well, we are what we eat.” Kate remarked with a bit of a smile.

You scoffed at what she thought was funny from how true it really was. But you decided to correct her from how you saw her. “You’re monsters.”

What came out of your mouth next was a hiss of pain from the unexpected sting against your skin from the knife Adam was holding, he cut you just deep enough on your forearm to make a gash and blood to start pumping itself through the wound. It seemed he didn’t like your insult. Kate circled around the table when she spotted the blood, and before you could protest, she bent down and took a bit of a taste to see what she was going to enjoy. “You know, you use that word a lot, Y/N.” Adam said. Waking to the table, Adam stood over you so he was at the head of the table, wanting to make sure you knew who was in charge here. He swung up an arm and shoved down the knife to what you were expecting your chest to be the target, but the blade landed right beside your head, making you flinch at the scare tactic. “But I don’t think you know what it means.”

Kate pushed against your arm to get more blood from the wound, after drinking what she could to get a feel, she found something off about you that wasn’t like the rest of her victims. She peered up to Adam with bloodstained lips and chin, Sam felt sick to his stomach at the sight. “Her blood—it tastes different.” But she didn’t seem to find it distasteful of the demon blood you’d had added in your system when she went for seconds again.

Adam ignored her, not caring much about what you tasted like, his focus was on the hunter sitting right across from him, being forced to endure the feeding fest. There were a few choice words he’d been dying to share with the man before the night carried on. “Our father was a monster? Why? Because of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Sam. Not living, anyway.” Adam ripped the knife out of the table and tightened his grip around it, he left it at his side for the time being.

“No. He was no monster.” Kate said. She licked her lips, getting the last bit of blood off her before she was speaking once more. She took the knife she was holding and began to lightly trace a V pattern across your chest, making you flinch in discomfort. “But the thing that killed him was. A monster named John Winchester.” Sam narrowed his eyes at the woman at how she was speaking about his father. But soon the hatred turned into frustration when Adam spotted a dark red spot on your shirt from the lower part of your stomach where you accidentally cut yourself on the knife you’d been holding before you were knocked unconscious. You quickly bit your bottom lip when you felt him poke a finger into the ripped fabric before finding the abrasion. A scream threatened to fall out from your mouth again, but you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, you muffled a groan as you pressed your eyelids shut, blocking out what was going on. “My brother and I grew up on our own. At least we had each other.”

Adam peered over his shoulder as he licked the blood of his index finger, taking notice himself of how different you tasted. But he didn’t mind. “Like you and your brother—inseparable.”

“Actually, it was very hard to get you on your own.” Kate stood up and leaned over the table again to look at the man. Her lips stretched into a smirk as she pointed the bloodied knife at him. “But I think this is better, don’t you think?”

“Friends are nothing more than weaknesses. And like you said, Sam, the only thing you can count on is family.” Adam threw the words the hunter had spoken earlier in the evening right back in his face, just for the hell of it. Kate ignored your attempts at trying to break free, she pinned down your arm and continued to feed on you. “But I guess family doesn’t always end in blood.”

“And for twenty years, we lived like rats because of your father.” Kate stopped feeding just for a moment so she could speak out her frustration that had been bottled in for too many years. She licked her fingers clean of your blood, making the man watch as she did so. As she walked over to him, only stopping at the edge of the table, she continued talking. “Graveyard after graveyard, all that stinking flesh. Then we thought, ‘Hey, why not move up to fresher game?’”

“And we knew just where to start.” Adam wandered over to you and reached up his arm that was holding the knife. He ignored your deathly glares as he easily stuck the sharp blade into your fresh wound, watching as even more blood began to pour out, faster, until there was a small pool that was starting to form around you. He glanced upwards from the mouthwatering sight to see he triggered a verbal response from Sam that sounded like a threat if he didn’t stop hurting you. But Adam brushed it off as background noise and listened to your attempts at keeping your painful noises quiet. He pressed harder into your skin. “Revenge—it’s never over is it, Sam?”

“First it was John’s cop friend, and then his slut,” The ghoul pointed the knife at herself, knowing the meat suit she was wearing was the exact replica of the woman she murdered a week ago. She directed the blade at her brother, who fooled you into thinking he was the Winchester’s real flesh and blood, not a monster wearing the man’s skin after he devoured him. “And then is son.”

“Then I called John, but, the son of a bitch was already dead.” Adam said, a bit disappointed at the plan he’d been looking forward to for weeks.

“So I guess you and Y/N will have do instead.” Kate added. She found it quite adorable when she saw Sam’s nostrils flare in frustration at the situation he landed the both of you into. Reaching out in arm, she lightly brushed the back of her hand against his cheek, Sam flinched and backed away from her touch.

“Dean won’t interrupt us this time.” Adam said, painting the gruesome night he had planned for the both of you. He leaned over the table so he was the only thing you were staring at. But the words he spoke weren’t meant for you. “We’re gonna feed on Y/N nice and slow—and you’re gonna sit there and watch. Like we did with Adam and his mommy.”

“Oh, and by the way,” Kate decided to pack an emotional sucker punch to Sam, giving him something to think about as he watched his sight unfold. It was like hearing good news, with the heavy load of disappointment after the bad news that followed afterwards. “He really was your brother. You should know that.”

“He was still alive when we took our first bites.” Adam taunted the both of you.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at what you heard, you could only imagine the horror of what the poor boy had been through. Trying one more time, you focused what energy you had left inside your body by tugging once more at the rope, somehow hopeful you would find a loose string that would set you free, but it only felt as if they were getting tighter. Kate turned herself on her heels when she heard you exhale a deep breath from your struggles. She tilted her head to the side as she watched you. “He was a screamer.” She said to you. “I wonder if you are, too.”

You kept your gaze on the woman as your lips stretched into the faintest smirk, you pretended that you weren’t afraid of what they were going to do. “Go to hell.” You hissed at her, sharing the words that you’d been dying to say. All though there were more you were itching to get out, there wasn’t much time—the ghouls were hungry, and they weren’t satisfied with just a bit of a sample of your blood, they wanted more.

It seemed your backlash against them only lasted so long. Adam glanced up at his sister, and with the nod of a head, they got to work. Each of them took an arm, and without a single warning, you found yourself being tested to see how long before you could make a noise. You felt the stabbing and slashing sensation rush through your forearms when each of them made a vertical incision in your forearm, hitting just the right vein. You tried your hardest to get yourself out of this mess, your front teeth sank deep into your bottom lip, putting tremendous pressure on the skin, hard enough for more blood to rise to the surface. Without even thinking, your first reaction was to squirm and tug at the restraints one more time, but it only made the blood seep from your wounds faster. You groaned in pain when Kate slashed again, adding another scar to your collection. That was, if you ever made it out of this mess alive.

“Y/N, the more you struggle, the faster you’re gonna bleed out.” Adam informed you. He glanced down at the ground to see the china bowls he’d set up right beside his feet. The pearly white color slowly began to disappear with your thick and crimson blood, the pastel rose decorated in the middle vanished when you tugged once more with your right arm when you wouldn’t listen. “So you might as well lie back and relax.”

You could feel the trickles of blood pour from your wounds and down your skin, leaving your body, and making your entire vision start to turn hazy as you were growing lightheaded. You tried to keep yourself lucid enough to figure out what was going on, but you knew it was long gone when your mind started playing trick on you, thinking that you heard Dean’s booming voice echo in the room. For a second you thought it was some safety mechanism to help you cope with what was going on, but your heavy eyelids that were starting to droop shot wide open when you heard the very distinct sound of a gunshot going off, and then Sam’s voice shouting; “Dean, they’re ghouls!”

Another gunshot echoed through the house, a clear shot sent Kate’s head right off, sending her body to the wooden floors where she would remain for now. Satisfied with the kill, Dean became distracted for a brief second when he finally noticed the predicament you and his brother had got yourselves in. Sam just needed a knife, he’d cut himself loose, for his main concern was you right now. From the amount of blood you were losing, it was starting to scare him. Dean worked fast for the small amount of time he had, after letting his little brother fend for himself, he reached for one of the other knives that were lying on your side. He barely had a chance to touch the handle before something was dragging him away from you.

Adam recovered from the gunshot wound to the chest and he wasn’t happy. You managed to see a fight break out between the both of them, but you were reduced to hearing noises, but it was beginning to become harder from your heartbeat that was starting to pound in your ears. Wasn’t that one of the signs of blood loss? Your body laid on the table feeling like dead weight. When you opened up your eyes after you heard the very faint of a chair hitting the ground and heavy footsteps trailing across the floor. You blinked a few times until you saw a bit of a hazy figure that was standing just above you. For a moment you thought it was Adam, until you heard them speak.

“Dean!” You instantly recognized it as Sam’s voice, the panic was clear as day. He quickly got to work on your bounds as Dean continue to smash the ghoul that looked like Adam a few more times at of pure frustration and hatred for what he’d done. “A little help here!”

The oldest Winchester snapped himself back into reality when he heard his brother’s voice. He listened to the instructions Sam gave him to find something that would help clot your wounds for now. He frantically searched around until he spotted a few cloth napkins that were big enough to use. He headed over right as Sam tried to slowly force you into a sitting position. Your face was written with pain as you forced your aching body to your advantage, no matter how much it hurt. Your breathing became shallow when you saw the blood that covered your entire forearm. “All right, here we go.” Dean reassured you in a calm tone as he tossed one of the cloths at his brother, instructing with a nod to help wrap your wounds. “Hang on, sweetheart. Here we go.”

You could feel yourself letting out a heavy sigh of relief when you felt the wounds on your forearms become covered. From the pressure each of the boys were giving you, a wash of exhaustion settled in your body, making you lean against Sam’s chest, finding it suddenly hard to keep yourself awake. But before you could let yourself slip out of consciousness, you looked at each of the boys. "Thank you.” You whispered to them.

“That’s what family’s for, right?” Dean gave you a warm smile when he caught you staring at him with half hooded eyes. But his gaze lingered upward to his brother, knowing well enough that the man was correct, there was nothing more important than the people he called family. “Keep pressure on that, Sammy.”

Sam listened to his brother’s instructions as he reached out a hand to cradle your other forearm. He watched for a brief moment as Dean began to tend to the disaster in front of them. Ignoring the bloodied wallpaper and dead bodies around them, Dean headed for the bathroom, thinking there had to be a first aid kit here, for your wounds were far more important to them before they tackled this messy situation.

\+ + +

A few nights later, after you destroyed the evidence of another supernatural case, you met the real Adam Milligan. He was lying a few feet from you on a bed of sticks with his dead body wrapped in a cotton white blanket. Dean thought it would have been appropriate if he was given the proper burial that he deserved like the many hunters that had passed from the casualties of hunting. He had the Winchester blood in his body, he deserved to go out like one. Sam was the most hesitant to letting the little brother he’d never met go up in flames, he thought about pulling a favor from Cas, but Dean protested the idea. You watched with your hands in your jacket pocket, underneath the fabric was stitches and gauze to keep your wounds from the ghoul that fooled you into thinking that it was the man, nearly luring you to the edge of death. If you had to put your opinion in on the matter, Adam deserved to stay dead. He was in a better place. The poor kid wouldn’t have to learn about the supernatural world. Or how truly damaged the man standing next to him in all the photographs were. You wanted the innocence and false reality remain for the poor boy.

Dean struck the edge of the matchbook with a single match, and without a hint of hesitance, he threw the bundle to the body, watching as a burst of flames engulfed. “You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much.” Your eyes trailed away from the burning body that was in front of you and to the man standing next to you. He wasn’t talking to you, but Sam. “You two were practically the same person. I mean, I worshiped the guy, you know? I-I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listen to the same music. But you were more like him than I ever will be. And I see that now.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Sam mumbled, seeming unsure of how else to respond.

“Take it any you want.”

Family, no matter how much you can cling to the happy memories, was a touchy subject for all of you. Your parents have done things in their lifetime to help make sure you stayed safe, and in return, you did just about anything to make sure they were happy. Dean being the good son by taking responsibility for his little brother when John was away, being a better father to their brother for years. It hurt to think that Dean would never have a sense of closeness to his father like his brothers did—Sam was exactly like the man, Adam gave him a sense of normalcy in the hunting lifestyle. Dean had lied ever so slightly when he said he was fine with the hunting lifestyle. Not until after this. He wondered for a brief moment if your upbringing was better than his. Despite the bloodshed and impending doom, you had sixteen years of blissful happiness with your own mother. No worries about making sure that a sibling was safe or how long Ella would be away. The question lingered in the back of his and your own mind from time to time. Who was a better parent here when all roads lead to the same path?


	20. The Rapture.

You can hear someone screaming, someone’s screaming so damn loudly. It makes your head hurt—from frustration that they won’t shut up already because he’s not going to stop because they’re in pain. He’s going to continue because hearing souls cry out for mercy to a God that has long forgotten about them is like music to his ears. Because the man knows from their screams he’s doing something right, and he’ll just about anything to make it continue on for days. Your head hurts from the empathy you feel for the poor soul that we’re put under his care. You know what he’s capable of. He can make a razor feel like a dull knife against your naked skin. He does it because he was told to do so, just like his entire life, he’s only known to take direction and instructions without question. He tortures souls because he can. He tortures souls because what is there else to do in Hell? You endure the pain because you tried to save his life, and it’s all your fault for where the both of you ended up. Maybe if you had just minded your own business…Or maybe if you were never born, none of this would be happening, now would it?

He tells you things that you tricked yourself into believing that are true as he strips away your skin layer by layer until he sees bone, you lay there on the slab and listen to everything he says. It’s better to listen and trick yourself into believing what he say is true because it’s better than the psychical pain, even though each hurtful statement feels like he’s rubbing salt in the wound. He doesn’t care. The man you loved for your entire life is gone. Hell has rendered him a changed soul. Before all of this, just the mere thought of you being tortured and screaming for mercy would have been a soul crushing experience he would do anything to stop. Then it was the only thing he looked forward to.

This is the fourth night in a row you’ve been having nightmares of Hell. Each time you close your eyes for a restful sleep you’re plagued with vivid memories of the torture you were put through in the pit. The fourth night comes the fourth month in Hell—when Dean was given the opportunity to torture souls, starting with yours. You are alone in the motel bedroom, lying on your backside with your eyelids pressed tightly shut, the screams that you imagine are nothing more than muffled breaths nobody can hear. The man who has chose you as his first victim is in the motel room besides yours, sleeping peacefully with his brother, having no idea what he is still putting you through after all these months. Both of you pretended for the longest time that everything was okay by sharing kisses and motel beds through the endless miles traveled. Tonight is different. Dean isn’t here to comfort you when he realized what was happening to you. He can’t wake you up from the nightmares to tell you he loves you, and he wouldn’t dare think of doing anything to harm you again. Instead you’re left with the darkness of your own thoughts.

As the nightmare progresses while you sleep, the memories drift away from the time in Hell, and to the way you were resurrected from the dead, but there was no relief. You woke up to the pitch black darkness as your only friend after you realized you were buried six feet underneath the ground in a wooden coffin to keep you safe from the elements. You start to remember how hard you had scratched and pounded on the plywood until your nails were ripped apart and bleeding from the splinters that stuck in your skin. And no matter how much you tried to scream, there was nobody to save you. As your nightmare progresses, you forget to breathe. You get to the point where you feel like your lungs are on fire from the stale air you’d run out of in the confinements of your small coffin. Just as you feel like you’re about to be pulled at the edge of death again, that’s when you finally get yourself to wake up.

A sharp gasp forces your lungs to inhale the sweet and refreshing air of the motel bed as you shoot up in bed. Your palms rest against your pillow as you try to figure out what’s going on. For a brief second you can feel the agonizing pain still in your fingers, but with a quick inspection, your shaking fingers inspect the freshly manicured nails you’d gotten done a few days go. You decided to treat yourself one afternoon after the boys mentioned something about having a bit of fun day drinking at some local bar that was in town. You close your eyes for a moment as your hands come to hide your face, pushing back a few strands of loose hair that are soaked from the cold sweat you broke out from head to toe. You tell yourself it was just a dream, everything is okay. It takes a moment and several deep breaths before you gain the strength to move out of bed and head for the bathroom.

It’s a bit of a slow process when a spell of dizziness washes over you after you push yourself to your feet. You recover and find the path through the darkness of the motel bathroom. Patting around on the walls, the light switch comes on and you’re blinded for a few seconds from the fluorescent lights. You squint and fumble around for the faucet to turn on the water, after knocking over your toiletries, you feel the cold water touch your skin, sending a shiver of relief down your spine. Bending down, you cup your hands over the running water and splash your face, the coldness instantly makes you wake up. You turn off the water when you feel refreshed enough as you can and take the grueling chance of looking at yourself in the mirror. You wince at what you have been reduced to; dark circles and growing puffiness around your eyes. Not to mention your complexion seems paler than normal, you look like you’d just seen the ghost of Christmas past.

Not taking your eyes off your reflection, you reach out a hand to grab the bottle of aspirin that you used this morning when a migraine was starting to form. You pat around the counter to find it, but as your fingers are centimeters from touching it, your head snaps to the side when you hear a crashing sound echo off the tiled floor. Looking down, your brow furrowed at the strange sight. Little coated pills were scattered across the floor with the white plastic bottle spinning slightly as it comes to a stop, making it look like someone whacked it with their hand. But you never touched the bottle.

You retract your hand to your chest and cradle it for a moment, silently wondering to yourself what happened. A nervous feeling settled into you as you stare at the sight for a moment. You swear you didn’t touch it. The bottle moved on it’s own. Part of you should be more terrified from what you had saw. But this isn’t the first experience of seeing objects move on their own. It’s been going on ever since the nightmares started, and a few accidents when you were brought back from the dead. You're fixated attention on the pills only lasts a second longer before you hear a loud knock on the motel door, the surprise guests makes a gasp escape your throat and jump a few inches in the air. You compose yourself and head to the door, wondering who the hell was bugging you at four in the morning. Giving one last reflection to yourself in the mirror, you swear for the slightest second you were staring at yourself with black, demonic eyes.

\+ + +

Dean was the colporate who was knocking at your motel door at nearly the break of dawn. A change of clothes and a ten hour ride later, you were about three states away from where you originally ended up after burning the remains of John Winchester’s bastard son, Adam Milligan. It was unclear for the first hour of what was going on, but you managed to get an answer when the location pulled up with an hour to spare. Castiel had gotten in touch with Dean through his dreams, though it wasn’t much, he needed your help. You were rather…frustrated at the news. This past year of hunting hadn’t been much more than constant blows between each breath you managed to take. Between being pulled out from Hell and remembering the grueling details after being force fed demon blood from Lilith. The angels and their business dealing with the freaking apocalypse. Demons running amok and your own problems quietly brewing. (Learning of another Winchester and Sam’s mutating psychic abilities. Not to mention the memories of Hell and Dean’s involvement.) You wondered what waited for you inside the abandoned warehouse.

Night had fallen when the Impala pulled into the parking lot of the directions Cas had given Dean in his dream with a cryptic message. You stepped out of the car and examined the warehouse building to see that it was three stories high, and miles away from any human civilization. You looked over at the boys, all of you wondered what was waiting for you on the inside. Armed with flashlights and the demon knife stuffed in your back pocket, you quietly followed behind the brothers when they ventured inside first. You looked over your shoulder when you heard the heavy metal door slam shut, engulfing your vision into pitch darkness for a moment. You fumbled to turn on your flashlight, for some stupid reason you forgot to turn on, as the sound of footsteps begin to grow quieter after you became distracted for a moment. Jogging to catch up, you and the brothers inspect the first floor of the building, only to come up with nothing but darkness and rats from their skittering nails against the concrete as you pass them by.

“What’d he say, Dean?” Sam asked his brother once more of why all of you were here, as if he was withholding important information. “What was so important?”

Turning your head upwards, you glance up to see the dim fluorescent lights were barely functioning, one flickers as you pass it by. “If I knew, would I be here?” Dean asks, you hear the frustration from the situation he was being put through himself.

You continued through the passage of the second floor without a conversation or argument, all of you silently agreeing that finding out what was going on was most important. Your flashlight caught sight of the staircase that lead to the third and final floor. Grabbing ahold of the yellow painted banister with your free hand, you made your way up the concrete stairs, wondering if you and the boys were getting closer to this discovery Castiel seemed so urgent for you to find. As you made your way up the the top of the staircase, you gave yourself an early peek of what you were getting yourself into, and from what your flashlight picked up from it’s small stream of light, it was quite a sight to behold. Pushing yourself to the final step, you cautiously looked down at the path you were following so you wouldn’t get hurt from the hell that had broken out.

Something bad happened here, you knew that from more than just the gut wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach and by the debris of metal shelves and broken beams that once held the building together. You could hear crackles of electricity as small smarks from loose wiring kept going off as you ventured deeper into this chaotic mess. “What the hell?” You muttered to yourself when you stopped in a clear path to inspect the damage a little bit better for a moment as the boys continued on their way of trying to search for any sign of human life. Another crack of electricity sent you off on your journey again, afraid if you stayed in the same spot for long enough you would get hurt. “It looks like a bomb went off.”

You tighten your grip around the flashlight as you managed to catch up with the brothers once more. Both of you stopped for another brief second to inspect the damage that was done with its fog of smoke and continuous sounds of hazardous loose wiring. You circled around in your spot to see the story was very high up, considering there was a staircase leading to a metal platform that was still in tact. "There was a fight here.” Dean stated, seeming to presume from the wreckage of its devastating aftermath.

“Between who?” You asked him, turning your gaze away from the metal structure that laid ahead at least a few yards away from where you were standing. As your flashlight turned away from the staircase and to the wall right next to it, you accidentally illuminated what appeared to be some strange symbols painted in red. You furrowed your brow in curiosity as you stepped forward and retracted your flashlight to see what it was. It took a second to realize the red substance that dripped down the concrete walls wasn’t paint, it was blood. And the familiar circle with its symbols sketched on the outside was all too familiar. “Guys, check it out. Look familiar?”

“Yeah, it does.” Dean agreed when he spotted what you were looking at. All of you headed forward to the wall to inspect the details you’d seen only once months before. The feeling inside the peit of your stomach grew more uneasy when you noticed the blood was still fresh. You cautiously glanced through the rubble to see if the culprit was still lingering around. “Anna used something like that to wish the angels back to the cornfields.”

“So, what? Cas was fighting angels?” You asked with a bit of humor in your tone. From the history and knowledge of the angel and his own kind through the past year, Cas has had his moments of listening to his commands given from the higher up without question. But then there were very rare moments when he was the angel on your shoulder, whispering helpful information in your ear to help solve a situation. But it seemed from the state of this place, one of his angel buddies had found out what he’d done, and they weren’t too happy. “Looks like he pissed someone off real good.”

You took one more look at the symbols before you turned yourself on your heels when the brothers began to look around again to any sign of life. Dean examined the sight ahead of him for a brief moment before he spotted a familiar shade of tan his flashlight crossed over. You glanced over your shoulder when you heard the man call out the angel’s name, prompting you and Sam to follow behind when Dean began navigating himself forward to the familiar face. You duck underneath a few hanging loose wires when you spotted Cas lying on top of the rubble, unresponsive when all of you tried calling out his name in a worried tone. The brothers crouched down to be at level with the angel as you stood over him for a moment. Dean reached out a hand to place on the angel’s shoulder. He shook the unconscious body ever so slightly to awaken him.

It took one push before you saw the man’s eyelids rip wide open, showing off the familiar blue eyes you’d seen dozens of time before. But it was the panicked expression that settled across the angel’s face when he arose to consciousness after inhaling a deep breath. “What,” Castiel seemed far from normal as his head whipped back and forth to inspect the damage of the place. He looked horrified. You noticed when he spoke, his voice wasn’t the usual gravel tone you’d come to identify him as. It seemed just the slightest bit more high pitched. It felt normal to you. Dean helped the angel to an upright sitting position. “What’s going on?”

“Cas, you okay?” Dean asked the angel with a concerning tone.

But it seemed the angel wasn’t feeling quite like himself today. You watched as the man pushed himself to his feet with a frantic pace. Ignoring the sight around him for a moment, he focused on his vessel as he outstretched his arms, he wiggled his fingers around, almost like he thought he’d might have lost control. “Castiel. I’m not Castiel.” The man mumbled with a shocked tone. He glanced down at his own body and realized he was fully in control again. “It’s me.”

You were thrown through a loop when you heard those two words. It took just a moment before you realized the man standing in front of you wasn’t Castiel, but the empty vessel of the man he’d possessed, leaving him more than just dazed and confused. You glanced over the brothers for a few seconds before you settled your gaze on the mysterious man for the time being. “Who’s ‘me’?” You asked him.

“Jimmy.” He answered you. “My name’s Jimmy.”

“Where the hell is Castiel?” Dean asked the important question.

Jimmy fell silent for the longest time to collect his thoughts and figure out what was going on himself. He examined the damage around him, he tried to remember what happened, but there was no recollection he could come up with. However, when he glanced back over at you and the brothers, he did have answer about the whereabouts of the angel. “He’s gone.”

\+ + +

Castiel has left the building. You didn’t know his location or why he would leave all together at a time like this. It made you frustrated from the lack of proper answers you were getting. You snuck a hand away from the wheel of the Impala and into the warm fast food bag sitting in the empty passenger seat besides you. You were driving back from a small burger joint you spotted down the street after the boys spotted a motel decent enough to stay for the night. Dean graciously handed off his keys after you offered to get a very late dinner for you and your unexpected guest. It was something to help distract this Jimmy from the terrifying situation he landed himself in.

You sank your teeth into the boiling hot fry and directed your attention to the parking lot you pulled into. After you found a spot next to the motel room and killed the engine, you looked at yourself in the reflection of the mirror. Remember when hunting was just about saving people from spirits and finding John? Now you had a man who was sitting in the motel room with the boys, once possessed by an angel, he was reduced to a stranger with amnesia who only knew his name. You let out a frustrated sigh as you grabbed the bag and tray of drinks. And here you thought things couldn’t get any worse

Balancing the food in your hands, you managed to unlock the door and announce your arrival in a cheerful tone to the group of men. Tossing the keys to the bed, you headed over to the round table where Jimmy had been since you left almost a half an hour ago. You noticed the trench coat you’d always identified Castiel with was lying across the chair the man had been sitting in since you left. You gave him a small smile as you bent down to place the tray down without spilling the drinks and plopped down the bag, the brothers flocking to the table from the smell of grease and melting cheese. “I didn’t know what you might like to eat, so,” You opened up the bag and began taking out a wrapped burger and a small box of chicken strips from the smell, along with the fries you had been eating on the way home. “I got you a few options.”

Your eyes glanced upwards to see Jimmy’s response to see what he would like, but it seemed the man was distracted with something else that was hanging from below you. You noticed he was staring at something with his brow furrowed together and eyes squinted slightly. Seeming confused yourself, you looked down to see that he was staring at your locket that once belonged to your mother. It disappeared a short time after she passed when you were cleaning out her belongings from her bedroom, all though devastated, the locket came back into your possession just a short time ago. Dean had given it to you as a gift for Christmas last year after he found it when he asked for a favor from the late Bela Talbot. Jimmy was staring at it like he’d seen it before.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’m starved.” Dean’s voice coming from behind breaks you and Jimmy’s concentration. You ignore the man that’s sitting across from you when you see Dean come upwards from your left side. You give him a smile when he reaches for the burger that’s meant for him as Sam happily settles to the salad he asked for. You settle yourself down in your seat that leaves you between the brothers and Jimmy as your guest across the table from where you sit. Dean grabs one of the straws from the bag and looks at Jimmy, who sits there, almost unsure of what to do. “Dig in, man.”

You and the brothers ate your food without much conversation, the only words were spoken was from the glances you gave one another from the situation that was unfolding. When you swallowed down the last of your meal, it seemed Jimmy was just getting started. He scarfed down the chicken and gladly accepted your leftover fries when you announced you were full. Twenty minutes later he’d managed to go through two things of fries and a cheeseburger you’d gotten for one of the boys. It seemed they were both unfit to eat another bite when Jimmy finished the cheeseburger, from the noises that came from his mouth, he was acting like it was the best thing he ever had. You raised your brows in wonder as he reached for his cup to take a drink and wash down the burger he was barely chewing. For a man his age, you didn’t think it was such a good idea, but Jimmy didn’t think about the consequences of the moment.

“Mind slowing down?” Dean asked the man after he finally became uncomfortable with the sight that showed no signs of ending. “You’re giving me angina.”

"I’m hungry.” Jimmy said, shrugging his shoulders from his impolite eating habits. He reached for the cup again, the contents watered down from the ice, but he didn’t seem to care as he washed down the burger he was chewing.

“When the last time you ate?” You curiously asked him.

“I don’t know—months.” He answered with the plastic straw clenched between his teeth. He continued slurping down his drink before pulling away and taking another bite of his burger. You shifted your gaze away in discomfort when he opened his mouth slightly, showing off the chewed burger and bun. “Mmmm. This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Do you know how long it’s been since I was allowed fast food?”

You gave him a small smile, happy to see the man was enjoying his first meal in what appeared to be forever, but it wasn’t helping the bigger situation you had. You looked over at the boys, wondering who was going to be the one to ask the important question of Castiel’s whereabouts. Sam’s forehead crinkled when he looked over at the man, deciding to ask. "What the hell happened back there? It looked like an angel battle royal.”

“All I remember is there was a flash of light, and I, uh…” Jimmy admitted what he could remember. He glanced down at the table as his hands rested against the crumpled wax paper. “I-I woke up, and I was just, you know, like, me again.”

“So, what,” Dean spoke up, trying to give the man a few suggestions that might help fill in the endless story with holes. “Cas just ditched out of your meatsuit?”

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders and took another bite, “I don’t really know.”

“Do you remember anything about being possessed?” You asked him, jumping straight forward to the question that mattered the most to you. Placing your elbow on the table as you leaned forward in your seat, your hand rested against your chest as your fingers subconsciously reached to play with the chain of the locket out of frustration. “Anything at all?”

“Yeah, bits and pieces.” Jimmy said, nodding his head as you watched him chew on his food. He found himself staring at the movement of your fingers around the locket for a few seconds, all before he answered the question. “I mean, angel inside of you—it’s kind of like being chained to a comet.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like much fun.” You mumbled as you gave him a small smile.

“Understatement.” Jimmy remarked with a nod.

“Cas said he wanted to tell us something.” Sam said, trying to keep the conversation moving along for answers. “Please tell me you remember that.”

Jimmy apologized when he shook his head, making you let out a sigh as Dean rolled his eyes from the lack of progress all of you were making. “Come on, what do you remember?”

The man sitting across from you falls silent for a moment as he begins thinking of the proper answer. You stare at him for the few seconds that he is silent for. When he finally looks away from the wall, his gaze falls to you for the answer that makes you aggravated from frustration. “My name is Jimmy Novak. I’m from Pontiac, Illinois. And I have a familly.”

\+ + +

All though you were happy to hear this Jimmy Novak had a wife, that must have been worried sick about where he was, his answer didn’t help figure out where the angel had run off to. It wasn’t like Castiel to leave without a trace, especially at a crucial time like this. You pursed your lips out ever so slightly as you stared out the motel window through the sheer curtains from your position at the table. The brothers were outside in the parking lot, discussing what to do with Jimmy, leaving you to keep the man occupied as he silently paced around the room. You watched him for a second or two before your attention was being pulled back to the window. Out of habit, your fingers found the chain of your necklace and began playing with it. For a moment you began wondering what plan the boys were going to come up with, that was, until your attention was pulled away.

“Where’d you get that?” You were caught off guard when Jimmy broke the silence between the two of you by asking a question. He stopped pacing for a moment when his attention was drawn back to the locket you kept fumbling around with. Ever since he saw it earlier this evening when you brought back dinner, he kept wondering why it looked so damn familiar. It took the sight of you sitting there with your legs crossed and lips pouted out for the realization to hit him.

“What—this? It was my mom’s before she passed.” You explain to him, holding the necklace upwards so the small pendant dangled slightly, Jimmy noticed the engravings on the back when it reflected just right in the light. You noticed he seemed to get lost in his own personal thoughts. For a brief second you see his expression changes into absolute shock. “Why do you ask?”

Jimmy was thrown off from your own question, he looked at you with a baffled look, but it takes a second before he was shaking his head, mumbling something about how it looked familiar to him. You licked your lips and narrowed your eyes on him slightly, wondering if there was something he wasn’t telling you. But you never get the chance to keep the conversation going. The motel door swings open, revealing the boys, and from their apologetic expressions they settled on Jimmy, they came up with a plan. But the man wasn’t going to like it.

“What the hell are you talking about, I can’t go home?”

Jimmy wasn’t pleased to hear he wasn’t exactly free to go. The brothers were right to be cautious about letting the man out of your sight. From the threats that were lingering on the outskirts, and what they did to get their hands on the once fallen angel Anna, it’d be best if you babysat him for a while. “There’s a good chance you have a bull’s-eye on your back.” Dean said, trying to explaining his reasoning to the man.

“What?” Jimmy asked with disbelief. “From who?”

You glanced upwards to the brothers who sat next to the table you were still occupying. Letting out a quiet sigh, you looked over at Jimmy to answer his question. “Demons, probably.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes,“Oh, come on. That’s crazy. What do they want with me?”

“I don’t know—information, maybe” Dean speculated.

“I don’t know anything!” Jimmy exclaimed, as if all of you didn’t know that. You closed your eyes for a brief moment as you tried to reason with him, but he cut you off. “Look, I’m done, okay? With demons, angels–all of it. I just want to go home.”

"We understand.” You said.

“No, I don’t think that you do understand. I’ve been shot and stabbed and healed, and my body’s been dragged all over the earth.” Jimmy protested. He walked forward to Dean so he could grab his coat, as if it were going to be that simple to walk out the door. “By some miracle, I’m out, and I’m done. I’ve given enough, okay?”

“Look,” Sam tried to reason with the man as he got up from the chair he was sitting on. “All we’re saying is that until we figure this out, the safest place is with us.”

“How long?” Jimmy questioned all of you.

Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you looked upwards at the boys, wondering if they’d gotten that far into the discussion. Dean seemed hesitant to answer, leaving his little brother to give a vague response. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Jimmy scoffed at the answer he should have seen coming. He satched his jacket from the chair when Dean wasn’t looking and tried to make a run for the motel door. “Where are you going?” You asked him, jumping up from your seat at the sight. Sam, being the closest to the door, stopped the man from making his great escape he desired.

“To see my wife and daughter, okay?”

“No, you’re not.” Sam said to the man. “You’re just gonna put those people in danger.”

Jimmy threw his hands to his side and stared at the three of you with vicious glare from what you were making him do. “So, what—now I’m a prisoner?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Harsh way to put it.”

\+ + +

Jimmy wasn’t happy about the change of plans you and the brothers sprung on him without much of a warning, and choice for that matter, but he complied when you thought it’d be best for him to get some sleep It was about midnight when he took one of the empty beds, you tried your hardest to stay up, but after running around almost for a full day without much sleep, it wasn’t a surprise when you passed out around two in the morning. Dean joined you an hour after when he thought about resting his eyes. Sam watched as the clock on the nightstand turned, it was fifteen minutes to five. He heard Jimmy roll around in bed before settling back down, giving him a good sign that the man fell back asleep. The younger Winchester tried his hardest to remain calm. It had been days since he last had a fix. And his stash was running dangerously low.

Sam wasn’t addicted to demon blood, but he sure was feeling like a junkie, desperately longing for his next fix. It’d been about two weeks since Ruby had given him the most she could from her own vessel after he called her with a desperate tone of voice. But he didn’t want it for him, the supply for was you. He did it again, pumping your blood with demon blood, because he was scared. Ruby arrived at the motel room in the middle of the night with a few syringes and instructions to give you a dose every few hours, just like at the hospital after you went a few rounds with Alastair. You showed improvements when Sam inspected your arm that was peeking out from the bed you shared with his brother, there wasn’t even a faint trace of a scar on your skin. All though you were safe again, Ruby had given him the bad news that she couldn’t provide much, he would have to wait until her body would recover to give him another dose. Just to be safe, Sam kept the last round of blood for himself over the past week, in case he needed a small taste. Sort of like now.

The logical side of him, the hunter, reminded himself that he was supposed to be on the lookout. Sam let out a very quiet sigh as he looked over at the beds to see that everyone was asleep. Five minutes, he told himself. All he needed was five minutes and a little taste of demon blood to make himself better.

\+ + +

“What the hell were you thinking?” You scolded the youngest Winchester from the bathroom as you continued getting dressed fast as you could. It was around six in the morning when you were abruptly woken up to another disaster. Sam, for whatever reason, had decided last night to step out for a few minutes, and in those precious little minutes Jimmy flew under the radar. To say you were pissed would be an understatement. Shoving your arms into the designated holes of the clean shirt buried in the bottom of your bag, you headed out as you roughly tugged down the fabric, barely missing Dean as he passed you by while he continued brushing his teeth. He wasn’t safe from your wrath as you hissed at him to keep out of the way. Dean made a remark underneath his breath as he reached the bathroom to spit, you retaliated by throwing your dirty shirt at him, aiming perfectly at the back of his head. “You’re both idiots.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It was a mistake.” Sam apologized again for what felt to be the hundredth time in this very early morning, but from the tone of his voice, he didn’t mean it. He glanced over at the clock and let out a frustrated sigh when he realized the bus to Illinois would be boarding in less than an hour. As he continued packing whatever remaining dirty clothes that laid on the bed, he saw your hand snatch your shoes he accidentally grabbed. You gave him a glare before you turned your back on him to slip on your boots. You had been grumpy since you heard the news, but from the muffled laugh he heard from the bathroom, his brother was enjoying every little second of this. “Sorry—is this funny to you?”

Dean wandered back to the bedroom of the motel, his lips stretched into a grin as he continued on brushing his teeth, and still showed no signs of taking this situation serious. His little brother rarely screwed up, but when he did, like any good older sibling, he rubbed it in until the joke wasn’t funny anymore. “Mr. Big Bad Prison Guard, and Jimmy McMook gives you the slip? Yeah. It’s pretty funny.” Dean replied, taking the toothbrush out of his mouth so he could speak properly. Sam rolled his eyes and averted his attention to packing once more. “What were you doing anyway?”

The question made Sam freeze in his spot for just a second from the unexpected turn in conversation from his brother. Thinking the real answer, sucking down some demon blood, wouldn’t have been the best response, Sam was quick on his feet to come up with a cover story. “I was getting a coke.”

“Was it a refreshing coke?” Dean mockingly asked.

“Can we just go?” You pushed yourself to your feet and gave them an annoyed glare from the useless conversation that was being dragged out longer than you liked. “Please?”

Dean chuckled to himself just one more time as he headed for the bathroom to spit, leaving you and Sam to pack up the remaining of your belongings before hitting the road. You grabbed your jacket from the messy bedsheets and shrugged it on, Sam zipped up the duffel bag and let out a heavy sigh, the kind that made it clear of how guilty he felt for the situation he put all of you under. In the back of your mind there really wasn’t too much to stress about, you were one hour ahead of Jimmy, and with some quick research, you found out where he lived. You had a planned already sketched out in your head. While you could feel the stress and frustration of this morning starting to simmer down, it seemed Sam was still looking flustered, like something else was bothering him that he wasn’t telling you.

\+ + +

The estimated time it would take you to get to Illinois without any disruptions would be about half a day. You were a few hours into the drive, you quietly kept to yourself, doing small tasks on your phone that was mainly kept for what normal life you had back at home. All though you rarely turned it on, you decided to see if there was anything interesting to keep your attention for the next few hours. You sat in the backseat and scrolled through your emails while the brothers sat up front, neither one of you speaking. All three of you were caught up in your own world, so much, it took you by surprise when a guest decided to pop through.

“Hey, guys.”

The feminine voice you weren’t expecting to hear made you drop your phone to your lap as you jumped a few inches in the air. You roughly stumbled into the backseat door when Dean accidentally swerved off the road for a second when Anna appeared out of thin air. He managed to take control before he went rushing first into oncoming traffic. You managed to catch your breath when you see a flash of red hair, signaling an angel you hadn’t seen in months, Anna. She was one, if not, the only angel you had come to personally grow a fondness for. Unfortunately you hadn’t seen her in months, she had been on the run since disobeying her orders and not thinking too much for herself. It seemed her superiors didn’t like it when she fell to become human. Through a disaster turn of events, she turned into an angel again, and decided to pop up unannounced after all this time away.

“Jeez!” You muttered underneath your breath from the visitor you weren’t expecting to see, let alone, be accompanied in the backseat of the Impala. It took you a moment to feel your heartbeat slowly go back to normal when you saw the familiar red hair that could be recognized as Anna. “Give a girl a warning next time, would you?”

“I like the element of surprise.” Anna said. You wondered if that was just an angel thing, they sure enjoyed popping up unannounced. But the woman sitting next to you wasn’t here for a friendly chat, she was here on more important business. “You let Jimmy get away?”

“Talk to Sasquatch here.” You pointed the blame to Sam, knowing very well it was his fault. The man was appreciative when you threw him under the bus by the glare he gave you when looking over his shoulder. He averted his gaze away from you to acknowledge the angel.

“Sam,” She greeted the man by speaking his name in a level tone. You noticed a long pause from her when she stared at the man sitting in the passenger seat upfront. There was an aura she noticed from him that was far stronger from the last time she had seen him. But she wouldn’t dare speak of it, just in case she wasn’t right. “You seem…different.”

“Me? I don’t know.” Sam found himself slipping back into an awkward conversation topic he was trying his hardest to avoid today. But it seemed no matter what, he couldn’t avoid it. The curious stares he was getting from you and Dean wasn’t helping the situation. He tried to divert away the focus from him by mumbling out a response that made you scoff with a small smile. “Haircut?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Anna said. The angel could easily see through the mask he was putting on, but she wasn’t here to discuss his activities, there was more serious business to discuss. Giving one more suspicious look to Sam, she glanced her attention to his older brother. “So, what’d Jimmy tell you? He remember anything?”

“Why?” Dean asked the angel. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Cas. He got sent home. Well,” Anna found her wording of the situation she was trying to explain for the three of you less devastating than what it really was. She corrected herself so you could better understand the situation. “More like dragged back.”

“To Heaven?” Dean presumed, Anna nodded her head. “That’s not a good thing?”

“No. That’s a very bad thing. Painfully, awfully bad.” Anna corrected the man. You could hear her voice grow quieter for a moment from the imagery she was thinking about. The angel had experienced an excruciatingly painful process of ripping out her grace to become human, she could only imagine what Cas had gone through. “He must have seriously pissed someone off.”

“Cas said he had something important to tell me–something important.” Dean said. Anna leaned closer to him and asked what it was. “I don’t know.”

“Does Jimmy know?” She asked.

You shook your head, “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so? Whatever it is, it’s huge.” The angel declared a certain fact you already knew for certain. You glanced away from her when she was speaking and looked out the window, you rolled your eyes to conceal your frustration that was growing awfully fast. “You got to find out for sure.”

“That’s why we’re going after Jimmy.” Sam said.

“That’s why you shouldn’t have let him go in the first place.” Anna passively argued back with the hunter for the accidental mishap that landed all of you in this situation in the first place. Not saying anything else, Sam turned back in his seat to look at the open road. “He’s probably dead already.”

\+ + +

Anna’s parting words didn’t leave a pleasant feeling for a happy outcome, but she was being realistic about the situation. Jimmy had a target on his back, and it was hunting seasons for demons. Time was of the essence, but Sam needed to make a call to Ruby, and Dean needed to fill up the tank after finding the Impala was running dangerously low. You decided to take the small pit stop to stretch your legs and enjoy some fresh air. You leaned against the hood of the Impala with your arms crossed over your chest. As Dean busied himself with getting gas, you turned your attention to the empty convenience store Sam mentioned about needing to go inside to make a call. Presuming the call to Ruby was about her help, what you overheard as the conversation persisted wasn’t exactly normal. Through bits of the one-sided argument, Sam was pissed, and his actions weren’t helping. You noticed since all of you left this morning he was different–he was unsettled, almost like he couldn’t stay still. You thought it was the guilt from letting Jimmy go, but after hearing his conversation, his last time of being out of something, you could feel your curiosity perk up from what he meant by that.

But you weren’t like his brother. You didn’t have time to pry yourself into a conversation that would surely turn into an argument. None of you had time for this. So when he walked out of the store with an even more flustered complexion, you asked him if he was all right, Sam muttered a yes as he got himself into the passenger side of the Impala. You left the topic at that. A minute later, all of you were off on the road again, just an hour separating you and Pontiac.

Darkness settled long ago, it was a little bit after seven when you pulled into the quiet looking neighborhood, and even though Spring was in full bloom, you noticed a light coating of snow covered most of the ground. Dean settled the Impala by parking against the home of the seemingly normal Novak family home for the time being. You could see the lights were on in the house, giving you a clear sign that somebody was present. For a moment you were lead to believe that it was just Jimmy’s wife and daughter inside, living their lives like normal. But you got a different story when you saw a sight cross your eyesight when you happened to look at the window on the far left side of the house. Leaning forward in your seat, you narrowed your eyes slightly when you spotted a very familiar face running like his life depended on it with two bodies in front, you easily suspected they were female. Knowing who it was, and what might be going on, you grabbed the demon knife for protection as the brothers followed behind to see what was going on.

On a normal situation you would have politely knocked and asked if Jimmy was home after you were greeted by his wife, Amelia. But there was no time for that. You tried to see if the front door would budge, and with little luck you managed to have, you found it was unlocked for any old stranger to walk in. And the sight was quite something to see. Jimmy was lying on the floor with a woman straddling him, easily winning the fight as she threw punches at him, all while his wife tried to break up the fight after she tackled herself on the other demon. You quietly snuck behind the one that stood with his back to you. Being silent as you could, you noticed he was playing unfair by holding a knife against Claire, Jimmy’s daughter’s, throat for a cautious warning. But you decided to make him play with someone would was more qualified at fighting back. Without him noticing, you quickly snuck behind and drew the knife you were clutching and slit his throat clean, killing him before he could have a chance to realize what happened.

His dead body hitting the ground was an unfortunate giveaway that announced your arrival. Jimmy’s wife stumbled to the floor when the demon easily pushed her off like it was nothing, and just a second later, you were staring at a pair of inky black eyes. You weren’t afraid when you charged forward and tried to attack her with the knife that was covered in her partner’s blood, soon to be her own when you got done with her. But it seemed you weren’t quite fast enough from the upper hand she had on you. With the flick of a wrist, you could feel your body flying through the air, all before crashing into an end table that broke your fall. You forced yourself into a sitting position as you worked through the familiar ache that settled into your body. As you brushed off a broken ceramic lamp from your body, you moved your hand to the carpet to push yourself to your feet, only you quickly pulled away with a hiss after your skin brushed against a broken picture frame you must have accidentally broken from the crash. Pulling your hand away, you absentmindedly glanced down at the photograph, catching sight of a young couple huddled together in a side hug. For some reason, you took a closer look, for the image of the female didn’t look like Jimmy’s wlife, but someone familiar from the bright smile that you’d seen before.

You were quickly pulled from your thoughts when you heard the shuffling of footsteps enter the room, making you realize there was still a fight going on. Dean pulled Claire to safety when Sam distracted the demon to lure it out from the vessel it was possessing. Normally the younger Winchester had full control of his psychic ability, he could pull a demon out and send it back to Hell without breaking a sweat. But it seemed he was having a bit of an off day. He struggled to get the demon to start even choking on its own smoke as it was being yanked out from its body, but she just stood there, once fearful, now a grin spreading across her lips when she realized there was something wrong with the hunter.

“Can’t get it up, can you, Sam?” She taunted him.

You pushed yourself to your feet and snatched the knife from the ground after you noticed it was in the same spot where you were previously standing. “No, but I can.” You announced your presence when you stood just a foot from the demon. Throwing your arm up in the air to stab her, it only ended with her making an escape from her body from the familiar black cloud of smoke. You gritted your teeth in frustration, knowing well enough the demon would still be out there, lurking in the shadows to pounce again. But you had other things to worry about, like getting the Novak family to safety. You nodded your head at Sam to the front door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Sam recovered from his dizzy spell that took more out of him than you had seen before. Months and months of perfecting his skills, and when you need them the most, he freezes up. You followed behind when he headed out the front door to catch up with everyone else, you lingered behind a moment. You glanced down at the carpet with a mess of broken glass and ceramics that laid at your feet. It was the broken picture frame which kept you here longer than you should. Without a second thought you were bending down and grabbing the frame, you smashed it to the ground again, breaking apart the flimsy wooden frame and snatching the photo that easily slipped into the back pocket of your jeans. You variously examined the area of the house to see the coast was clear before you were finally out the door, catching up with the family and the boys.

“Nice for you to finally join us, Y/N.” Dean made a remark when he noticed you quickly heading down the porch steps. You gave him a look as the family loaded themselves into the backseat as you took the unfortunate refugee in the front, stuck between both brothers. “Let’s go, let’s go.”

Dean ushered you inside first inside the passenger side of the door as his brother followed suit, still recovering from the dizzy spell that overtook him just a minute ago. The driver’s side door slammed shut when Dean slid behind the wheel, and without looking back, he slammed his foot on the gas pedal, sending the Impala straight forward on the pavement, giving all of you a head start to safety before the demon could come back with new backup.

\+ + +

You’d been driving for at least two hours now, Dean wanted to be cautious about making sure the demons wouldn’t know where you would end up. The noise inside the car had been reduced to silence as you continued through the state, wondering what the next plan of action would be. You shifted around in your seat and crossed your arms over your chest to find another comfortable position after feeling your legs cramp up. You were about to get yourself lost in personal thoughts, but you stopped for a moment when you heard the very soft sounds of paper crinkling from your back pocket, making you slightly confused at what it was, until it hit you. The photograph you had stolen from the house. You cautiously looked around to see Sam was staring out the passenger side window as Dean focused on driving. Claire and Amelia were sleeping, probably exhausted from all the stress they were put through, Jimmy had been quiet since all of you left. You bit your bottom lip and quickly reached a hand inside your back pocket to pull out the photograph before hiding it underneath your leg, holding it just the right way so you could see the couple again.

You fondly remembered the story of when your parents first met from the dozens of photographs and family albums that were collecting dust in the hallway closet back home. Your mother was just about eighteen and decided to move from her old hometown to another place where nobody knew her, that happened to be Kansas. Your father was just shy of being twenty-one and had been a drifter. Both of them shard one glance before it was all over–it was love at first sight. There were countless photographs of their love life that bloomed into a beautiful wedding, a few heartbreaks when they wanted to start a family, before you came along. Your mother had a few old school yearbooks from her high school that she showed you for a good laugh. The woman in the photograph with a much younger looking Jimmy wasn’t his wife, but someone very familiar. With the same hairstyle that your mother would cringe with a goofy smile at her choices from her teens, even down to the locket that hung from her neck.

Without much thought of the hunch that you were starting to grow, you somehow managed to get yourself to lean over the seat so you were now facing Jimmy with your arm outstretched. He turned his head away from the window after he heard the brothers protest what you were doing, with Amelia and Claire still peacefully sleeping, you drew the photograph out to him so he could focus on it. You waited to see his response as your necklace dangled, the silver chain like the young woman who was wearing in the picture, swung around. Your mother wore it for long as you could remember, and when you first asked her about it, she said it was a gift from your father after you were born. While you grew to believe that answer, part of you was now starting to wonder if she was lying. She kept so much from you, it wouldn’t be quite a surprise if she lied about this.

“You know, this necklace sure as hell does look a lot like mine. And come to think of it, this woman sure looks pretty familiar. She almost reminds me of my own mother. Her name was Ella Brooks, before she got married.” You started off the conversation with a quiet voice so you wouldn’t wake the others. Jimmy stared at the picture for a moment or so. While he tried to remain neutral, unsure of what you were getting at, the name made his eyes quickly flicker to you, the same expression of familiarity settled into him. You didn’t expect him to take the bait so fast, it made you stare at him with a bit of shock. “You…Is this–”

“Ella, yeah. I, uh, sort of know that name from…my younger days.” Jimmy let out a nervous sigh as he reached up a hand to tug at the collar of his dress shirt, suddenly finding the realization of what was going on. You tightly furrowed your brow as an awkward tension began to fill the car, all while, the brothers watching from the outside as bystanders. “I thought you looked familiar.”

“You knew her?” You asked him.

Jimmy nodded his head, “We went to school together.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Dean jumped into the conversation after finding himself baffled at the topic that was changing way too fast for him. Somehow he managed to keep the car steady long enough to reach an arm out and snatch the picture from your grip. He examined the picture each second that he could while driving down the empty road. The man stared at it with a confused expression. He had seen enough pictures of your mother, and from the very faint memories that he had of her, there was no denying she was the woman in the photograph. “How the hell did you really know Ella? And why do you look like a love sick couple?”

Dean’s questions bombarded the man sitting in the backseat. He tugged once more at the collar of his button down that hadn’t been changed in almost a year. All though he didn’t want to speak about his past, especially with his wife peacefully sleeping next to him, The man had kept the picture for a reminder of his past, and while he always told Amelia that it was an old friend, he knew that was a heavy lie she’d grown to believe. And with you sitting right across from him only made things worse. Letting out a heavy sigh, he decided to make things only more complicated for all of you. “Her and were…engaged to be engaged.”

They say everyone is somehow connected to each other, and as if you didn’t think the world was small, you were feeling like an ant from the story Jimmy told you. He explained, very hesitantly, that he knew your mother from high school. Both of them had grown up through the years without knowing much of each other until high school, that’s when things changed. Your mother and Jimmy crossed paths when they both shared a class, and with seats next to each other, it was a friendship in the first year of high school, all the way to a serious relationship when their senior year was about to end. Jimmy had gotten the locket for a graduation present for your mother. He wanted to give her something special, for the happy time in her life was also a tragic one, too. You knew about your grandparents and their passing; your grandmother had gotten cancer when your mother started her junior year, but she passed a year later. Your grandfather was so distraught from her passing, he’d gotten himself comfortable with the bottle, almost forgetting that he had a daughter. It was the reason why your mother stopped being a hunter.

“Ella and I always talked about leaving after we graduated high school. She was serious about starting a new life. We even talked about adopting a dozen kids after she found out she couldn’t get pregnant. Which I didn’t care about. I…I loved her no matter what.” Jimmy continued on telling the story from what he remembered of the woman. You found yourself engrossed with what he was saying, you ignored his lingering stares when he once more told himself you were her daughter, healthy and almost exactly like her. “It was about a month after graduation when I asked for her to marry me. I thought she would have said yes…”

"But she said no?”

“I don’t know. She left town before I could ask.” Jimmy answered, you looked at him with a bit of a sympathetic expression from what your mother had put him through. The old memories opened up slightly for him, allowing you to see the hurt all over in his expression. She was the one that got away, but it seemed Jimmy had made a happy life with his wife Amelia, along with his daughter, Claire. “From time to time I wondered what could have been. But it’s in the past. And I’m happy with the life I’ve made.”

“Trust me, you dodged a bullet.” Dean’s voice made you look over at him with an angered expression from the remark he made. But he brushed it off by looking at the rear view mirror to stare at the man he once only viewed as Cas, the angel which a thorn in his side. Now things only were getting complicated, and much more awkward. “Looks like it’s a small world, after all.“

\+ + +

This wasn’t the right time to say “I told you so” to the very distraught Jimmy, but he was feeling the backlash and guilt from the dangerous choices he made through the entire day. As the hours blended into another very early morning from the driving, all of you were at least safe for now, miles away from the demons. You shoved your hands inside your pockets and stood in the parking garage that was empty without a soul besides the four of you and the other women who sat quietly in the backseat, still peacefully sleeping. Jimmy looked over his shoulder to examine the sight of his wife and daughter, safe from the danger they were put under because of him and his desire to see them after spending so many months away. For a moment you caught yourself in a curious thought after it drifted into your mind. Jimmy had vanished without a trace after Castiel had chose him to be his vessel, leaving his wife worried sick about him, thinking most of the time that he was dead.

You wondered if that’s how Jimmy felt after your mother left her entire life behind when they were still young. Both of them had spent a handful of years growing to know one another, crafting a young romance that seemed so hopeful with plans of what they were going to do. It came as a big surprise for Jimmy when she left out of the blue for no reason without him, just like his wife. It all boiled down to the supernatural; she wanted to leave, he jumped head first into it without realizing. Both of you wouldn’t admit, but this entire situation was growing to be impossible to handle. You had saw him as Castiel, the pesky angel you weren’t sure how to handle at times, not the man your mother could have married and created an entirely different life with. For once, you were happy at the outcome of this situation. Jimmy seemed like an okay guy, it would have been terrible to see him land in the predicament your father was placed. Of course, the situation he landed himself in now wasn’t any better.

“You were right.” Jimmy muttered to all of you. He finally looked away from his family and back to the three of you, giving you a tad better inspection of the abrasion he gotten on his upper cheek underneath the dim fluorescent lights.

“Sorry we were.” Dean replied back with a somber tone.

“But I’m telling you,” Jimmy pleaded, trying his hardest to clean up this mess that seemed nothing more than just a miscommunication nobody would take a second to listen. You understood that he just wanted to take a car and go back home to his family and pretend none of this happened. “I don’t know anything.”

“We know. But I don’t think the demons are inclined to believe you. And even if they did, you’re a vessel. They’re still gonna want to know what makes you tick.” You said. You gave him the bitter information that you knew he didn’t want to hear, but you knew it was the truth that he needed to hear in order to keep his family out of trouble. “Which means vivisection if they’re feeling generous when they get their hands on you. And trust me, it’s not fun.”

"I’m gonna tell you once again—you’re putting your family in danger.” Sam ordered the man once more. The youngest Winchester wasn’t being polite anymore when the situation he warned about back at the motel had finally come true. If all of you weren’t there to save Jimmy, his family that he had been so desperate to see again would be dead. “You need to come with us.”

Jimmy listened to your advice with a grain of salt, his mind focused on other things at the moment. He hesitantly looked over his shoulder again to look at the two most important women in his life. All though it was going to be painful to abandon them again, he knew it was the right thing to do. “How long?” He gave the dreaded question that made Sam roll his eyes in frustration. “And don’t give me that ‘cross that bridge when we get to it’ crap.”

“Don’t you get it? Forever.” Sam warned the man. It seemed that the younger Winchester was tired of cushioning the truth that either you or his brother would give Jimmy. He decided to give him the picture that was painted with a darker outcome nobody really wanted to say. But Sam wasn’t the least bit hesitant to stare at the man with a cold expression, like he was tired of leading the man to a happy outcome which may never come. For a Winchester who constantly strived to be empathic and once said hope was kind of the point to keep going through the bitter end, Sam wasn’t himself. This version of him was much more brutal, more realistic. “The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So, you either get away from them far as possible or you put a bullet in your head, and that’s how you keep your family safe. But there’s no getting out, and there’s no going home.”

“All righty, then.” You mumbled, a little taken back “Don’t sugarcoat it for him, Sam.”

“I’m just telling the truth, Y/N.” Sam defended himself to you. “Someone has to.”

You tossed the younger Winchester a look from his attitude that seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. But your attention toward the situation lasted only a moment longer before you shifted it away, quickly noticing that Amelia was waking up, and before she could start asking questions and panicked from where her husband was, you gestured your head to the car for Jimmy. “Go ahead.” You said, giving him a polite smile. “We’ll leave when you’re both ready.”

Jimmy nodded his head before walking back over to the Impala to comfort his wife. You let out a heavy sigh from the situation that was about to unfold in the next few minutes. Shoving your hands inside your pockets, you slowly glanced away from the Impala when Jimmy bent down to speak to Amelia and to Sam, who wasn’t feeling any better about the threat he’d given to the man. You didn’t look away when the both of you made eye contact. There was something going on. In the pit of your stomach, you knew this wasn’t the same Sam you’d seen not even a few months ago. He was different—strung out and twitchy, somehow he wasn’t able to do what he normally could with his psychic powers, not to mention he had been so mean. Whatever it was, you hoped this dark cloud that had consumed the young man would disappear quickly as it appeared. Or you figured out what the hell was going on with him.

Sam wandered off a few minutes later to busy himself by looking for a car that would be suitable enough for Amelia and Claire to arrive somewhere else safely. You lingered back, allowing the couple to have their privacy, you spent the time by wandering around the parking lot to keep yourself busy. As you happened to pass the Impala, you accidentally eavesdropped on the intimate conversation between Jimmy and Amelia, only to see the heartbreaking sight of her embracing her husband one last time as she sobbed into his shoulder. You quickly looked away for the brutal situation they were dealt with. For you, no matter what happened, how much you fought, you were lucky enough to be in the situation where the people you called family were with you all the time. And not even in death wouldn’t tear all of you away from coming back together.

Unfortunately the goodbye couldn’t last forever. Soon enough you were standing next to the Impala after Claire woke up and Sam announced that he’d gotten the car ready for the women. Claire was silent for the most part, for she thought that her father would be coming back soon, none of you wanted to give her the terrible news that her father wouldn’t able to ever come home again. Amelia stood with her arms tightly crossed over her chest, and with red eyes from crying, watched as Jimmy leaned over so he was at their daughter’s level.

“Take care of your mom, okay, bub?” Jimmy asked what any parent would have in this situation, Claire nodded her head at the command and gave him one last smile, the kind which made his heart only break once more at what he was putting his family through.

Jimmy stepped away from his daughter and thought for a moment to kiss his wife goodbye, but he thought not. You opened up the backseat door and looked away from the sight when it was finally time to leave. You and the boys took your respective spots inside the car as Jimmy followed behind, taking a seat in the backseat with you. A silence fell through the atmosphere as Dean turned on the engine. Jimmy gave one more look at his family before they became nothing more than a fragment of his memory when all of you pulled out of the parking garage and headed back on the open road.

\+ + +

It took about an hour out into the drive before Jimmy found himself comfortable enough to fall asleep. You leaned against the backseat door as you sat behind Sam, becoming settled for the momentary silence that had been kept between all of you. While you were content with the outcome of the situation, nobody seriously harmed, your mind kept replaying the situation with Sam, and how he gotten so worn out from trying to exorcise that demon. While you weren’t the one to pick fights or pry into his personal life, it affected him to the point where he could have been harmed if you weren’t there to help. Taking a note from his older brother, you decided to strike up a conversation with him about the special abilities that had lead to many arguments there after. It was about his way of how he controlled the demon blood that made Dean frightened for what the man could do. But you were never worried. Lately you were more curious about what he could do, and what made him suddenly change out of the blue when he had been nothing but progressing over the past several months.

“What the hell happened back there?” You asked the younger man. You leaned forward in your seat when Sam glanced away from the empty road and to the rear view mirror to catch sight of you. He gave you a confused look, unsure of what you were talking about. “You practically fainted trying to gank that demon.”

“Okay, I think you’re being a bit dramatic, Y/N.” Sam said. “I didn’t faint. I just got a little dizzy.”

“Well, call it whatever you want. Point is, you and I both are on the same playing field when it comes to this demon blood. I can’t do anything special but lately you’re showing me you’re quite a force to be reckoned with. I mean, you used to be strong enough to kill Alastair.“ You said, giving him the honest truth about how you felt about the situation. "Now you can’t even kill a demon?”

“What do you want me to say about it, Y/N?” Sam asked with a bit of a bite in his tone, like he was being defensive. You furrowed your brow from the remark he gave you. “Want me to teach you a few pointers?”

“How about you tell me for starters what’s going on with your abilities? I mean it’s yo-yoing all over the place. Now, unlike your brother, I’m not trying to pick a fight here, okay? I just,” You let out a sigh as you gave him a worried look from the emotions that he was putting you through. Ever since you learned about his abilities, you’d been nothing but supportive, and seeing him suddenly on a downward spiral was making you nervous that something was wrong with him. Somehow you began wondering if the demon blood was vanishing from his system more he used it and he might get hurt, or worse, dead. “You’re scaring me, Sammy.”

Sam fell silent into a silence from what you told him, but it seemed that you weren’t the only one sharing the same concerns. “I’m scaring myself.” He muttered underneath his breath with a tone that he thought was quiet enough for only him to hear. But you heard him clear as day.

Before you could made a comment about what Sam had said, your attention was pulled away when you felt something vibrating from the inside of your pocket, a second later your phone started ringing. You were thrown off guard for a moment as you sat back down in your seat while you fished out your cell phone. Looking down at the screen, the number on the ID came up as unknown, but you answered it anyway out of a hunch. “Hello?” You answered the phone, only to hear a voice that you didn’t recognize. After you asked who it was, you calmed down when you realized it was Amelia. For some reason she was calling, and in need to talk to her husband one last time. Thinking it was just Amelia’s desperate ache to hear Jimmy’s voice, you reached out your free hand and lightly shook the man away, all before handing him the phone when he woke up. “It’s your wife.”

Jimmy took the phone as he sat upright in his seat, slightly eager to hear his wife, even though it hadn’t been that long since their departure from one another. Thinking that it was just another conversation about how she missed him, or why she couldn’t go through with this decision, you faced the window and stared mindlessly at the darkness for a moment. But the perfect thought only lasted so long before your head was snapping to the side again when you heard Jimmy mumble in a very worried tone, “Oh my, God.”

\+ + +

Leave it to you and the brothers for thinking the only demon you let go free would run away in the distance to lick its wounds before crawling back again so soon. Jimmy had gotten the disturbing phone call from his wife, who wasn’t feeling like much of herself today. She told him that it would be best if he came back to her, and if he didn’t comply, something bad might happen to Claire, and would he really want his poor Amelia to harm a blonde hair on her head? It wasn’t hard to detect she was possessed. Amelia might have gotten jumped from the small time frame she was alone of collecting coats for herself and Claire. Dean turned the Impala around right after Jimmy told him what was going on, and under forty-five minutes, you were in some abandoned warehouse, miles away from any civilization. You examined the area for any lingering demons as you stepped out from the Impala, quietly slamming the door shut.

“All right, they’re expecting you to come alone. That’s exactly what you’re gonna do.” Dean said.

“We’ll work our way through the catwalks.” Sam reassured the man. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“All you gotta do is stay calm and stall and let us do our job.” Dean instructed.

“You want to me to stay calm?” Jimmy asked, obviously not listening to a single word the brothers were saying. “This is my family we’re talking about.”

“Listen to me—this will work.” You told him. “Nobody’s gonna get hurt.”

“Whatever.” Jimmy said. He glanced around the area of debris and garbage that laid around the brick walls and empty gravel, as if he was searching for something. “Give me a minute, okay?”

You realized what he was doing when Jimmy found a private area that was just a yard away from you and the brothers. For one last ditch attempt, Jimmy was going to try and pray to an angel that wasn’t even on Earth anymore. You let out a sigh and hoped Cas was listening, for once, you could really use his help. “There’s no way they’re expecting him to come alone, guys.” Sam’s voice dragged your gaze over to him, bringing the obvious truth that you were already expecting to hear. “You know this is probably a trap.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean agreed with his little brother. “I have a plan.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at Dean from what he was thinking inside that head of his, the man thought it would be best to play along with this little game of cat and mouse. If the demons knew all of you were coming, there had to be a few lurking around the building for safety, just waiting for the chance for one of you to pop out of the shadows. None of them would expect the three of you. It was the best plan of action for the moment. With only one demon knife and Sam still looking unwell, despite the reassurance he gave you and Dean, this would have to be a team effort. Sam would be the distraction, allowing any sort of demon to come out from hiding after they spotted him wandering around. Dean pocketed the knife, deciding to do the honors after he noticed a back door just a yard away from where Jimmy had entered through.

Sam opened the door quietly as he could, but the squeaky and rusty hinges from years of neglected maintenance on the building could have been a dead giveaway before all of you were ready. The young man peered inside the empty hallway to see there was no soul in sight. While he was about to inform you and Dean about his next move, it seemed that all of you weren’t smart as you thought. Without a sudden warning of what was going on, you saw Sam being yanked from behind, a second later, you felt someone’s arm wrap around your body, pinning your arms to your side so you couldn’t fight the surprise attack. Dean had little seconds to react from what was going on, but before he could see the first pair of black eyes in his direction, the knife slipped out from his grip after another one of them punched him directly in the face to catch him off guard. It took a handful of demons, but you were the one cornered with no chance of escape.

All though you fought tooth and nail to somehow get out of the iron grip that the demon had around your arm, you unwillingly followed behind as he acted like you weighed nothing. The brothers followed behind with the other demons making sure they wouldn’t try anything stupid. You knew well enough where they were taking out without even having to hear her voice once more. Amelia stood with a casual expression on her face as she watched all of you join the lovely reunion with Jimmy, you noticed Claire was tied to a chair, but from the looks of it, the only harm done to her was putting her into unconsciousness.

“Got the knife?” Amelia asked, curious to see if the job was done. The blonde demon holding Sam held up the demon blade with a grin. She gave the woman a nod, happy with the complete task. all before directing her gaze upon the three of you. “And you know what’s funny?”

“You wearing a soccer mom?” Dean retorted, showing off the sparking sarcasm that the demon possessing Amelia and even yourself didn’t find funny. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him at a moment, wondering when he was going to learn that his big mouth would only lead to more trouble.

“I was actually bummed to get this detail. Picking up an empty vessel? Sort of like a milk run.” Amelia said, showing off her distaste for the mediocre task she was given. But her lips stretched farther into a smirk when she eyed you and the boys, knowing the reward she would be given for capturing the three of you. And it didn’t even take that much effort. “Now look who landed in my lap.“

"You got us, okay? Let these people go.” Sam tried to reason with the demon.

“Oh, Sam. It’s easy to act chivalrous when your wonder girl powers aren’t working, huh?” The demon taunted Sam, who could only stare back at her with a venomous glare from what she said. Amelia didn’t seem fazed from the infamous bitch face, she had more important things to carry on. She casually pulled out a loaded gun from her jacket pocket and pointed it directly at you, her finger laid on the trigger, and she showed no ounce of remorse for what she was about to do. “Now for the punch line–everybody dies.”

You tilted your chin up just slightly higher to show the demon you weren’t afraid of what she was going to do. But she could only smile at your small shadow of confidence, for the first bullet wasn’t for you, but someone else. In just a mere second the demon changed her mind to make the situation far more deadlier. Amelia swung her arm around so she was now facing her husband, Jimmy, who had wanted nothing more than to save his daughter from danger. Nobody expected it when Amelia pulled the trigger and shot Jimmy straight in the stomach. It took only a second before he was dropping to his knees, and the blood began to pour out from his wound. You could feel your eyes widening from absolute shock. You didn’t realize you were fighting hard as you could now to get away from the demon that was holding you, suddenly urging to get your hands on Amelia and beat her senseless for what she did. The demon wouldn’t allow the woman to realize what she’d done just yet. She was too busy enjoying this mess unfold.

Amelia gave the final instructions of making sure to kill Claire, all while Jimmy was still alive, so he could see this painful situation unfold. One of the demons holding Sam nodded his head at the command and left the other in charge. He walked passed Jimmy, not giving a single glance as the man was reduced to lying on the floor and tried his hardest to stop making his bullet wound from gushing out more blood. You could feel your jaw tighten in absolute sickness from what you were seeing unfold. Claire was so young, you would do anything to take her place so she could forget about everything. She laid in the chair, not knowing the demon was about ready to play swinging practice with her head. But before the demon could inflict a single wound on her, it seemed Claire was holding a surprise this entire time.

Claire placed her palm against the demon’s forehead, and with a little effort, she burned the man’s eyes from his skull, making you realize Cas had taken over her body. You used the opportunity when everybody was thrown off guard from the surprise attack. The female demon that had the knife didn’t realize you grabbed it back from her after Sam lunged forward to attack. You swung your arm with the blade to the demon’s chest that was holding you to stab him so you could be free. But your plan of action only lasted a moment before the woman tackled you to the ground after fighting off Sam. You roughly fell to your backside and caught yourself into another battle for the knife. You tried to reach for it, but neither one of you were faster, Sam managed to grab it before she could. The demon wasted no more effort on you, she pounced off your body and tangled herself once more with the young man.

You were thrown off guard, unsure of what to do, but when you saw that Sam was taking control of the situation as he straddled the demon, your focus lingered to Dean, who was struggling himself to gain control as another demon began punching him relentlessly. Stumbling to your feet, you were about ready to throw yourself at the demon, but before you could, Claire had somehow gotten herself free, and the angel inside of her decided to finally lend a hand. You watched as she did the same trick as before by placing her palm against the man’s forehead, killing the demon inside of him. While you should have been thinking about how Claire was the angel’s new vessel or about helping Sam, you found your entire demour changing for a split second.

You furrowed your brow when you caught a whiff of an aroma that captured your attention, it was something that suddenly made everything inside your body stand up on edge with electricity. You closed your eyes and followed the scent, allowing yourself to imagine what it could be. It was almost like you were put under a spell from how you were suddenly acting. You wanted this, you

it. You needed just more than a smell. You wanted to taste it, every last drop until this sudden thirst was satisfied. All you knew was that it could make you powerful, oh so powerful. But when you turned around in your spot to follow the scent, you opened your eyes to see what it was. And just like that, in the snap of a heartbeat, your entire emotions changed when you realized what you were suddenly craving.

The sticky red substance was all over his mouth, he couldn’t help himself anymore when he needed a taste for himself. You could feel your mouth gaping open as your brow furrowed tightly as it could go. All though the words were at the tip of your tongue, you could only manage short and heavy breaths from the reality that was crashing into you. Demon blood. You were craving demon blood, and it was all over Sam’s lips and chin, signaling that he had just been drinking from the woman’s gaping neck wound he had made to curb his hungry desire.

Maybe it was the initial shock of the situation that made you frozen in place, almost numb to the danger that you were still under. But you were pulled back into reality when Sam stabbed the demon after he realized you and Dean were staring at him, both of you digesting the situation far differently. The man acted like nothing was wrong. He stood back up and kept the bloodied blade at his side, showing off to everyone that he was back in control. But he wasn’t done just yet of showing off things that he had kept secret for months and months. Sam took notice of Amelia running from behind to somehow take control of the situation, but he was faster. Without breaking a sweat Sam reached up an arm and concentrated, he pulled out the demon from the woman like it was nothing, all because he had a little bit of the demon blood. You could feel the pit of your stomach twist into painful knots when you realized how Sam could control his powers.

Amelia’s coughing brought you back into the reality of the situation. You quickly looked over your shoulder, finally breaking the painful eye contact with Sam, and to the woman who was kneeling on the floor. You helped her up from the floor and made sure that she was all right, you were doing just about anything to keep your mind off the discovery you made. Dean made sure she was unharmed as you wondered where Claire had went, you found her lying next to her father, who was still bleeding out on the ground, barely clinging to life. You reminded yourself that it wasn’t just her in there, for Cas was back, and he was using her as another vessel.

‘Of course we keep our promises. Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It’s time to go home now–your real home. You’ll rest forever in the fields of the Lord.“ Cas was speaking to the man, but all Jimmy could see was his daughter. He wasn’t going to give up so easily. "Rest now, Jimmy.”

“No.” Jimmy muttered, trying his hardest to speak. “Claire.”

“She’s with me now. She’s chosen.” Castiel explained to him. “It’s in her blood, as it was in yours.”

“Please, Castiel.” Jimmy pleased with the angel, using whatever strength that he had left inside his body to fight. He didn’t want his daughter to experience the struggle he’d faced for the entire year, he couldn’t live with himself. “I mean, just—just take me. Take me, please.”

All of you stumbled upon the sight of Jimmy making the biggest sacrifice of them all for his family. The man had started out this painful and tedious journey to see his wife and daughter, he would anything not to see them be dragged further into this mess. Even if that meant being a vessel for Castiel for…ever. “I want to make sure you understand. You won’t die or age. If this last year was painful for you, picture a hundred–a thousand more like it.”

“Doesn’t matter. You take me.”

Castiel listened to the dying man’s wish. Placing Claire’s hand on top of Jimmy’s head, you watched the scene unfold of Castiel making the man his one and true vessel, for the sake of his own child. There a sudden bright light that lasted a few moments, blinding the four of you from what was going on. But as your eyes adjusted back to the normal dimness of the room, you looked to see that Castiel was back in the vessel that you had been first introduced by, the Jimmy Novak you had grown to know over the past few days was gone. Amelia stared at the man she had once called a husband for so many years, but he was gone, too. She gave him one final look before dismissing Castiel, her focus was suddenly on her daughter as she rushed forward to make sure she was all right. As she bent down to embrace her daughter, Amelia looked up one more time, giving herself a final warning that this was what her husband had chosen to do. Castiel looked at the two women before he turned around in his spot, the angel didn’t even bother to acknowledge you or the brothers as he walked on by.

“Cas, hold up.” It was Dean who called out to the angel. Castiel stopped in his track and unwillingly turned back around to face the three of you, and from the look on his face, the angel wasn’t happy about the interruption. “What were you gonna tell me?”

“I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean.” Castiel spoke in a monotone, almost cold tone of voice. It was like all of you were beneath him. And again, after all this time, the progress you thought might have been made, vanished from the remark, making you back at square one with the angel from his hurtful remarks. “I serve Heaven. I don’t serve man.”

You watched as Castiel gave all of you a farewell in the disguise as a blank stare before disappearing through the front door that lead to the outside. For brief moment, everything from the angel and his icy cold remarks to what you had discovered about Sam, it was all too much for you to handle. You didn’t give any indication of where you heading when your legs began moving fast as they could, suddenly urging for some fresh air. You wanted to be away from the stretch of the demon blood that suddenly overwhelmed your senses the more your temper grew. But most of all, you wanted to be away from Sam and the faint residue of the blood that stained his skin.

\+ + +

The initial shock of the situation that you had witnessed just minutes ago had long disappeared, leaving you frustrated at the idea of having another serious problem added to the never ending list of others. Sam had been drinking demon blood for a while, and all though you didn’t know exactly when he started, it wasn’t hard to tell he was addicted. It was easy to detect from his very unusual behavior over the past few days, from his short temper and very twitchy limbs. You didn’t know where he gotten his supply in the first place, but if you had to take a wild guess, the dealer was a very familiar demon named Ruby. And you had a feeling you knew where this all started. Just last year she promised you a way to kill Lilith, and that was from using the demon blood that had been staying silent for months.

Your thumb mindlessly traced over the palm of your hand, expecting to feel the very thin line of skin of an old scar you’d used, the reason why you’d gotten demon blood in your system–and a chance at bringing the younger Winchester back from the dead. Yellow Eyes was the demon you made the infamous deal with that caused all of you to be in this very predicament. He didn’t want your precious soul, he wanted something else from you. You used a very old summoning spell that required a spill of blood to make it work. It happened to be the exact same one John had used to sell himself to Yellow Eyes in order to bring Dean back from a severe coma. The demon split his own palm and forced the both of you to shake on it, allowing his own blood and yours to mix, causing the transfer he’d been dying to have for years. All though nothing happened after you had gotten it into your system, this wasn’t the first time you’d come in contact with it.

What made you upset about this situation was how Sam viewed the demon blood and how powerful it made him. Sure he could exorcise demons with his mind and took a curse that was brought upon him unwillingly by a demon only to use it against them. You viewed it as a poison that ruined your life. When you arrived back from Hell, you had spent a few weeks not remembering a single thing. There was a very thin wall in your mind that barricaded all the terrible things you endured. But thanks to Castiel and his warning to leave after you first met him, you went back home like you were told, only to find Lilith waiting for you, with a bleeding wrist. You shuddered at the memory of Alastair holding you and forcing her blood into your system again to make that wall crumble. After that, you were forced to relive every grueling second down there and come to a startling realization of another painful situation you didn’t want to think about now.

You let out a heavy sigh from the frustrating situation that you were put under. No matter what, it was always getting worse, the problems that you faced were bigger and badder. You rubbed your tired eyes, hoping for a moment that this entire situation was just a nightmare you were still having in the same motel bed you were previously in just a handful of days ago. You wanted nothing but to open your eyes from the darkness to see the clock on the nightstand read just a little after two in the morning. But when you inhale another breath, just the taste of the crisp night air was reason enough to realize this was the reality. You forced yourself to open your eyes and look at Dean. He had been silently standing across from you after you stormed out the warehouse, where Amelia and Claire still remained, along with Sam. Dean exchanged a look, you could tell he was upset, but it was more just than that for him. He looked so tired from the cycle of dealing with this. For months he’d been fighting with his brother about this, and it was only getting worse.

Part of you wanted to scream and shout at the top of your lungs at Sam, but you knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything. You swallowed down your venomous attitude and thought for a second to think about how to handle this. What are addicts put through in order to cure an addiction? give them an intervention. You shoved a hand inside your pocket to pull your phone out and began dialing a number you hadn’t used in a very long time. Looking up from the pavement, you leaned against the Impala as you listened to the ringing tone from the other line, Dean was staring at you with a very confused expression. But he gotten his answer to what you were doing when they answered the phone.

"Hey, Bobby.” You greeted the man with a painfully chipper tone. You hadn’t formally spoken to him since the siren case a few months back. The man had always been there for the three of you through thick and thin, tonight was no exception. Bobby seemed happy to be hearing from you, and of course, he asked if the boys gotten themselves into trouble again. You let out a nervous chuckle from his response. “Sort of. It’s about Sam…”

\+ + +

You told Bobby everything about this situation that had been growing for months; you explained to him about the demon blood, how it affected you and Sam, from the psychic abilities and your remembrance of Hell, all the way to the grueling details of his nasty addiction. You were expecting Bobby to hang up the phone after he told you never to call him again, he had a right to be fed up from the problems you kept running to him. But the man was calm as ever. He instructed you and Dean to handle the situation inside with Amelia and Claire. Bobby would call later to start up the plan you and the Winchester agreed on to help Sam.

You were nervous and full of anger all at the same time when you ended the call, but you listened to Bobby, and you got the remaining Novak home safely. All three of you now remained inside the Impala with an awkward silence as the conversation over the past few hours. You stood in the backseat closest to Dean and kept your gaze out the window, watching as the dark shadow of trees passed you by. You hadn’t said a single word to Sam since you saw him again, you ignored every single attempt at the man trying to start an apology, you shut him down with a deathly glare. He was in the passenger seat, forced to endure the worst car ride of his life. Dean hadn’t even said anything to him, which surprised the younger man, he shuffled along tonight, now silently driving down the empty road, not sure where life would take them next. After an hour of silence, Sam had enough of it.

“All right. Let’s hear it.” Sam’s voice made your fingers twitch in discomfort. Dean looked away from the road for a second and mumbled a what. “Drop the bomb, man. You both saw what I did. Come on. Y/N’s giving me the silent treatment, that’s fair enough. Stop the car. Take a swing.“

“I’m not gonna take a swing.” Dean muttered.

“Then scream.” Sam offered his brother an opportunity that he would have gladly taken without an offer. But the man just sat there with the same sullen look on his face that had been stuck there for miles. You only responded with another glare and an eye roll. "Chew me out.”

Dean remained calm when he responded, “I’m not mad, Sam.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not mad?” Sam questioned his brother. Dean shook his head, mumbling a very quiet no as he answered with a quiet voice. “Right. Look, at least let me explain myself to you and Y/N.”

“Don’t. I don’t know about Y/N. But I don’t care.” Dean admitted a faulty answer to his brother, as if it would drop the entire conversation. Sam stared at his brother with a surprised expression from what he heard, he repeated what the man said, as if he wanted to make sure he got this reaction right. “What do you want me to say–that I’m disappointed? Yeah, I am. But mostly, I’m just tired, man. And I’m done. I am just done.”

You weren’t sure what the lie ended and the real truth began. But you didn’t have much time to evaluate what Dean had said, your attention was pulled away when Sam’s phone began ringing, sending the first plan into action. "Hey, Bobby.” Sam answered the phone when he noticed it was the senior hunter calling.

“Hey, you kids better shag ass to my place ASAP.” Bobby replied the bait Sam had instantly hooked on to. You heard him ask what was going on, concern clear in his voice. “The apocalypse, genius. Now, get your asses over here.”

Sam shut his phone after the quick phone call ended. He let out a sigh and placed his phone back into his pocket for safekeeping. Before he started a conversation, he looked over his shoulder when you spoke up for the first time to him in hours. “What’d he say?” You asked him.

\+ + +

It took another few hours before you and the boys were in South Dakota, safely inside Bobby’s house, trailing downwards to the panic room he’d built a few years ago. Sam thought this entire situation was about a few more seals breaking and some sketchy activity with the demons. You quietly followed behind with your arms crossed over your chest, knowing exactly what was going to happen in the matter of moments. It was for his own good, you tried to tell yourself.

“Well, thanks for shaking a sail. Glad you got here.” Bobby said, walking in sync with the younger Winchester as they got closer to the panic room. Sam nodded his head and approached first, prompting him to open up the heavy iron door and peek inside, seeming to find nothing wrong with this situation. Bobby nodded his head, “Now, go on inside. I want to show you something.”

“All right.” Sam shrugged his shoulders, listening to the command as he stepped right on inside. He didn’t seem to notice you and his brother stood on the outside until he turned around to face the three of you. “So, uh, what’s the big problem?”

“You are.” You told him, the words painful as ever to say, but it had to be done. Sam’s expression dropped into slight panic when he realized what you were about to do, it only made your guilt grow even worse. “This is for your own good, Sammy.”

Bobby and Dean slammed the heavy iron door shut before Sam could find a way out of this. You wrapped your arms tighter around your body when you watched him through the small hole in the door. “Guys?” Sam began to slowly approach the door, unsure of what was going on. Bobby reached up a hand and shut the small flap, engulfing the young Winchester into solitary confinement. You shut your eyes when you heard his voice grow louder. “Guys! This isn’t funny! Guys! Hey!”

This is for his own good, you kept repeating to yourself. Everything will be fine.


	21. When the Levee Breaks.

He acted like a caged animal; the iron walls kept him as a prisoner as he paced back and forth in the circular room, he’d only been in there for a few minutes and he always already growing antsy to get the hell out. Bobby had gone upstairs to give you and Dean a moment alone with the younger man. Nobody seen this coming. Sam Winchester was supposed to be the logical brother of the duo; he was always so smart about doing the right decision, he thought what had happened to him was a curse, a sickness that he would do just about anything to wash away. You didn’t think he would take something so small and feed off on it. Everything about this situation made your skin crawl off the bone with discomfort. Demon blood wasn’t something that should be messed around with, it was poison—no, a curse. Sam once saw it like that. But here he was, addicted to the blood so he could get that sweet high, and to save the day. Dean peered down at you, silently wondering if you wanted to see his brother like this, he knew how much it upseted you. But you nodded your head, you wanted the man to get better. You wanted him to know this was for his own good.

Dean reached up to unlock the small iron latch on the door and let it slide over, the rectangular hole in the door was enough for the both of you to see Sam, who was previously wandering around the concrete floors, as if he was going to find a way out of this. He caught sight of the both of you and second later began walking forward with a glare that was laced with frustration. “Okay. Let me out.” Sam commanded with a serious tone. “This is not funny.”

“Damn straight.” Dean replied with a casual tone.

“Guys. Come on,” Sam tried to reason with you and his brother as he approached the door all the way until the iron wall was the only thing between the three of you. Who knows what he would do if the door wasn’t locked right now. You could see desperation, a furious anger burning in his eyes from the situation that you putting him through against his will. He kept preaching his innocence over and over again. You still wouldn’t unlock the door. “This is crazy. Unlock the door.”

“No.” You told him with a strict tone. “Not until you dry out.”

Sam couldn’t help himself but let out a scoff and an eye roll from the tone of voice you were using on him. You and his brother were making him feel like a child, he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie car and you thought a demented way of punishing him was locking him up until he thought what he’d done. You stared at him, watching every little move he head. Sam could see that you were far from angry. Now you were disappointed, sad at how he’d become a shell of the man he once was. Both of you had been infected with the demon blood, it was the reason why he was alive. You did it for the greater good. Why couldn’t you understand he was doing it for the same reason? Well, you didn’t know about the deal Yellow Eyes made. Then it was Lilith after you came back from the pit. And…what he did to you.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. Especially you, Y/N. Just,” Sam tried his hardest to be civil and show his remorse, thinks some half-assed apology was really going to change your mind after what you and Dean saw. “Open the door.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.” You said, shrugging your shoulders at him. But as you continued speaking once more, your tone became sharp, each words nipped at Sam’s thinning nerves. “It’s not your fault that you lied to me and Dean for months. And it’s not your fault that I’ve defended you countless times. We get it now. You couldn’t help it.”

“I’m not some junkie, Y/N!” Sam defended himself to you.

“Really? Well, I apologize!” You sarcastically replied to the man. “I guess I’ve just imagined how strung out you’ve been lately.”

Sam forced himself to let out a chuckle, thinking it would be at least one way of keeping himself calm so he wouldn’t lash out. You and his brother were waiting for the moment when he would continue this charade you presumed he was being. He moved his gaze around the panic room as his lips stretched into a smirk. “You’re actually trying to twist this around into some kind of ridiculous drug intervention?” Sam questioned the both of you. You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair and wandered around the room. He was getting antsy and more frustrated with passing time, only proving your point more without realizing it.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “If it smells like a duck.”

“Guys, I’m not drinking the demon blood for kicks.” Sam tried to explain his reasoning to the both of you, but his tone was cold and hostile. You raised a brow as you listened to him. But you were not believing a single word he was saying. “I’m getting strong enough to kill Lilith.”

“Strong? It’s about as far away from strong as you can get. Look at yourself, Sam! Try weak. Try desperate.” You hissed a slew of insults at him. You wanted to show the man how you viewed him, that what he was doing was against everything you stood for. "Pathetic. That’s what you are.”

Sam let out a heavy sigh from the words that you were spitting at him. The man wanted to open his mouth and tell you weren’t much different than him. But that would make him reveal the secret of what he did to you. And it would only further this punishment along. Or lead to something far worse. Swallowing down his frustrated aggression, Sam focused your attention on the demon who started this mess in the first place. “Killing Lilith is what matters. Do you remember she’s the one who wanted you in Hell in the first place? Look at what she made you do to Y/N.” Sam said, bringing up a painful memory for the both of you. You looked at him with a bit of surprise from how long he was going. “Or are you so busy being self-righteous you forgot about that?”

Dean tightened his jaw from the extremely low blow his brother brought upon. But he kept himself calm as ever, knowing it was just the addict in him speaking. “Oh, Lilith’s gonna die. Y/N, Bobby and I will kill her.” He said. “But not with you.”

“You’re not serious.” Sam whispered to the both of you.

“Congrats, Sammy.” You applauded him for screwing up so tremendously, the man was exiled to his own personal hell. It didn’t matter if this took days or weeks, it had to be done. There wasn’t a chance you could take him to ingest one more droplet of demon blood with time running out. You were going to set him straight and make him realize what he was doing was wrong. Ruby was the first demon on your list to kill, Lilith was second. You shouldn’t have trusted her as much as you did. Because of it, Sam was brainwashed into becoming the shell of a man you once knew. “You just bought yourself a benchwarmer seat to the apocalypse.”

“Y/N. No, wait.” Sam tried pleading his way out this one, but Dean wasn’t listening anymore. You watched as he pulled back the iron latch and locked it back into place, shutting out the young man, but not his pleas and terrifying commands as his voice grew loud. You forced yourself to inhale a deep breath as you turned around on your heels, making your way to the stairs. Sam wasn’t going down without a fight. As you reached a hand to touch the wooden banister, you jumped in fright when he pounded his fist on the door. “Dean! Y/N! Let me out of here!” Dean placed a hand on your back, you looked upward at him to see the poor man was trying his hardest to keep it together. You tried to comfort him as the pounding became more desperate and furious. Reaching out a hand, you wrapped your fingers around his, giving it a tight squeeze. “Dean! Let me out! Y/N!”

You wouldn’t listen to the man’s pleas and commands. You couldn’t. It was for his own good, you tried reminding yourself once more. Both of you looked away when Sam pounded hard as he could. He was making you feel like the monster here. You pressed your eyelids shut for a second and forced yourself to inhale a deep breath. This is for his own good, you kept repeating to yourself like a mantra. This is going to make him feel better. You forced yourself to start up the staircase, somehow trying to find a way to block out the pleas of a man you loved like your own flesh and blood.

\+ + +

Demon blood comes with a nasty amount of side effects. Your personal experience through the years had been few and strange, but you knew what to look for. There was migranes and abilities like psychic abilities seen from the special children. With your personal experience, you had a flew of symptoms that began to pop up hours after you made the deal with Yellow Eyes. You had terrible migraines over the months just like how Sam had. Not to mention how it changed your personality, you were hostile and out of control. It was the reason why you viciously murdered Jake, the man who had killed Sam to get out of the competition that would have only left one persona alive. But one of the worst things you had experiences with the blood was the hallucinations. They felt so real…and it was always your worst nightmares that played out.

Sam had been only down there for a few hours and his screams of pain filled the entire house. You checked on him when you first heard his words turn into terrifying pleas for his life. What you saw was him just lying on the cot in the middle of the room, his eyes pressed tightly shut as he pleaded for an invisible figure to stop hurting him. You bit your bottom lip again when he shouted and cried out in pain from the basement below. Inhaling a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself down once more. The anger inside of you was long gone. It had been replaced with guilt and sadness for how the situation was unfolding. If you were alone now, you might have broken down and did something to make him stop suffering. Or maybe you would have started to curl up in a ball and plug your ears, praying for the screaming to stop. But you weren’t handling this all by yourself, luckily you had the people closest to him here to help.You turned away from the doorway that descended down to the basement staircase and walked forward to the library where Dean and Bobby had been silently occupying since coming upstairs.

Bobby was sitting the desk and kept himself occupied by pouring the three of you a shot of whisky to take a bit of the edge off. You gladly accepted anything right now that would numb your body from all the stress it was going through. When you crossed over to the desk, you reached down and grabbed the glass. You inspected the rusty color for a moment or so before you heard Sam let out another scream. You let out a frustrated sigh and instead of taking a drink, you pressed the glass against your forehead, somehow hoping it would calm the pounding headache you were starting to get. Dean stared at his own drink, tempted himself to take a sip, but a question slipped out of his mouth first. “How long is this gonna go on?”

“Here, let me look it up in my demon-detox manuel.” Bobby replied after Sam finally stopped screaming. He leaned forward in his seat at the desk and pretended to shuffle around a few books that cluttered the top. “Oh, wait. No one ever wrote one. There’s no telling how long it’ll take. Hell, or if Sam will even live through it.”

The remark alone made your eyes jump away from the spot on the floorboards you’d been staring at for the past few minutes. You stared at Bobby with a hurt expression from what he said. This was hard on all of you, but you didn’t need his sarcasm to make you feel worse. Before you could voice your response, the phone next to Bobby began ringing. "Hello?” He answered the phone. You were about to take a drink as Dean began to slowly pace around the room, you stopped when the other hunter spoke again. “Suck dirt and die, Rufus. You call me again, I’ll kill you.”

Rufus was another one of Bobby’s hunter friends, you heard of him a few times, the last was when you and the boys were still searching for Bela. Rufus had managed to track down the woman by the print of her ear or something. While you seemed to believe both hunters were friendly with one another, Bobby’s outburst told a different story. “What’s up with Rufus?” Dean curiously asked as he began walking back over to the desk.

“He knows.” Bobby answered. You furrowed your brow in slight confusion from the response. A second later, the phone rang again, and Bobby answered it with a same rude tone. “I’m busy, you son of a bitch. This better be important.”

\+ + +

It seemed Rufus had a troubling news for the hunter. You leaned against the desk and waited around for the information from Bobby. He said it was something serious, but he wouldn’t exactly give you much detail to what it was until he checked to make sure it was real. You reached up the glass to your lips and downed the whisky, you vocally winced at the harsh burn when it slid down your throat. But you would do just about anything to keep yourself occupied. Sam had quieted down for a little while, but there was an outburst every once in awhile. Bobby’s footsteps broke your concentration away from your own personal thoughts. Pushing yourself up from the desk, you turned around to see him walking forward with a few pieces of paper in his hand, and a very sullen expression on his face from what he was about to report.

“The news.” Bobby said. “And the news ain’t’ good.”

“This is what Rufus called about?” Dean asked. He stepped forward and grabbed the papers from Bobby. Glancing down at them for a few moments, he leaned against the desk and took the spot where you had previously been. “‘Key West sees ten species go extinct’?”

“Yep. Plus, Alaska—fifteen-man fishing crew, all stricken blind—cause unknown. New York—teacher goes postal, locks the door, kills exactly sixty-six kids. All of this in a single day? I looked them up.” Bobby listed off a few events that had been taking place in the country. You felt the same sense of suspicion of what was going on, only for it to be confirmed what it was being caused by just a second later. “There’s no doubt about it. They’re all seals. Breaking—and fast.”

Of course, things couldn’t be easy for you. The damn apocalypse had been silent for the past few months, not giving much of a threat as you dealt with other problems. But with the biggest one being thrown in your lap, it had to start up again today. You let out a frustrated sigh and asked the dreaded question, “How many are left?”

“Who knows? Can’t be many.” Bobby said, shrugging his shoulders for the exact number. There were a total of sixty-six seals, and because of the three of you, three of them were broken. You managed to save a few here and there, but there were countless others Lilith was choosing at random. You had driven your attention away from the seals for a while. Bobby’s question made you want to roll your eyes. "Where the hell are your angel pals?“

"You tell me.” Dean muttered to the man.

The room fell silent for just a moment, as Dean began to wander away to the doorway of the kitchen and you drifted away to your personal hell of thoughts, Bobby found himself at a crossroads when an idea popped into his mind. He reached up a hand to scratch his beard as he began following behind the older Winchester. “I’m just wondering,” Bobby began speaking, making Dean stop in his tracks and you to stare at him, curious for what he was about to discuss. “With the apocalypse being nigh and all, is now really the right time to be having this little domestic drama of ours?”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked the man, unsure of what he was hinting around.

“Well, I don’t like this anymore than you two do, but…Sam can kill demons.” Bobby hesitantly brought up a situation that you knew very well, but his approach made you narrow your eyes at him with frustration. “He’s got a shot at stopping armageddon.”

"So, what, sacrifice Sam’s life, his soul, for the greater good? Is that what you’re saying?” You wanted nothing more than to stop the apocalypse and stop from the Devil himself to rise.But there wasn’t a chance in hell you were dragging Sam deeper into this mess. He was already changing from the blood, you could just feel it. And it wasn’t for the best. “Sure. Let’s put an unstable Sam smack middle in the fight. Times are bad, so let’s use him as a nuclear warhead.”

"Look, I know you both hate me for suggesting it. I hate me for suggesting it. I love that boy like a son.” Bobby said. “All I’m saying is, maybe he’s here right now instead of the battlefield, 'cause we love him too much.”

You licked your lips and processed what the man had said. Everything that was happening, it was always a battle of what the right thing to do was, and what ways you could do to prevent it from happening. You knew in the back of your mind that Bobby was right. None of you knew if the knife would work on Lilith, it hardly seemed to faze Alastair when you tried stabbing him. Sam was the one who ended up killing him by using his psychic abilities. You let out a sigh of frustration as yet another migraine began to slowly pound away in your head. It was just the stress. You pressed the cold shot glass against the temple of your forehead as you shut your eyes for a moment. You winced in pain when the pounding sensation began to grow worse, harsher than you’d ever really felt it before. When you tried to stand up, that seemed like a terrible idea, you suddenly felt your body become engulped with a dizzy spell, forcing you back onto the desk.

You didn’t hear the sound of the glass falling to the floor and breaking in half, or Dean speaking your name in a worried tone. All of your senses were heightened in just a second flat. Your ears began ringing like a white noise as your head felt like someone was pounding on it from the inside out. You rubbed your eyes, hopeful that everything would just stop. You found yourself slipping away from the darkness of your sight, and soon, it was flashes of things that kept crossing your mind like rapid fire. There was flashes of images—at first you couldn’t make much sense of it, but after a second, you were bombarded with a sea of faces of women you’d never seen before, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Your stomach twisted into knots from what you were feeling in the room, you were so scared of what was going to happen. Every woman in the room was trembling. You couldn’t see where you were, but it was supposed to be a place someone should feel sanctuary, a place of peacefulness and innocence. But all of it was going to end in bloodshed. All you could get from the atmosphere was absolutely gut wrenching fear, like you were going to die in the room with all those women, and there was no way out.

“Y/N?!” Dean’s voice sounded hazy to you at first, but it slowly faded the scene around you. But before you drifted back into reality, you caught a glimpse of something you hadn’t seen in a very long time. Your eyes snapped open when the migraine that once plagued your entire senses was gone. You realize you were leaning against the desk, as you moved your footing around, broken glass crunched underneath your shoe. Dean was hovering over you with his hands tightly gripping you, as if he’d been trying to shake you of a trance. His brow was tightly furrowed with concern as his gaze was fixated on you, the same look when he was about to leave his brother was glazed over his his eyes. You tried to push him away, mumbling something that you couldn’t understand, your brain for some reason thought it was important. “Hey, hey, slow down.”

The words kept repeating themselves in your mind with some strange, almost demonic voice inside your mind. It was the last thing that you heard before you were snapped back into reality. You didn’t understand or what to make of it. All you knew was that you saw him again, the demon Azazel. You’d recognize him anywhere by the color of his haunting yellow eyes.

You managed to choke out an excuse when you fully came back to your senses. You inhale a deep breath and turn your gaze away from Dean to look over at Bobby, who was rather confused himself at what he’d just witnessed. You opened your mouth to apologize about breaking his glass, but you stop yourself when you see a small droplet of something dark stain your jeans. Furrowing your brow, you feel something wet tickle your upper cheek. You reach a hand and brush a finger against your nose to scratch. When you pull away and examine, you look to see the skin is covered with a crimson shade that appeared to be blood.

\+ + +

Sam passed out around midnight when his unattended pleas for attention left him exhausted. But when he regained his strength back, it would only start up again. The house had been reduced an eerie silence except for the occasional creak from the aging wood and a whistle of a train from a few miles away. Bobby was taking advantage of the situation by getting some rest himself. Dean sat at the desk and poured himself another glass of whisky to pass the time. He watched as you shifted once more on the lumpy couch him and his brother used to fight over when they were much younger. Back in the days when their father was still alive and he’d drop them off for a week or so to finish a nasty hunt. Dean reached up and took a small sip of his drink.

He spent the last hour wondering what he could do to stop this situation from elevating. He wanted his little brother to be all right, he wanted Lilith dead. But he wasn’t going to risk something bad happening. Dean was running out of options. But there was still one he hadn’t used yet.

He had an angel chirping in his ear about how much good he could do if he just said yes. He could sell his life away to an angel. Dean scoffed at what he was thinking and peered down at his whisky. Just a few years ago he’d sold his soul to a demon so his brother was brought back from the dead. Same problem, just a different day. Dean couldn’t risk a chance at you getting yourself dragged further into this mess, and his brother wasn’t going to take another sip of the demon blood. He let out a quiet sigh as he downed the liquid in one shot. It was enough to make his final decision of what to do.

Getting up from his seat, he made sure to be careful to not squeak on any of the loose floorboards as he made his way across the room until he was hovering over you. He watched for a moment as you peacefully slept on your side, his jacket covering the upper half of your body after you started shivering slightly. Dean leaned down and softly pressed his lips against your forehead. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to—for you, for his brother. All he knew was that son of a bitch Cas better have his listening ears on. Dean was about to make an offer he couldn’t refuse.

\+ + +

“You, what?”

You stood in the middle of the library with your arms crossed over your chest and somehow unfazed when you heard Sam cry out for help again this early morning. Both of you had gotten a few hours of sleep until the chaos started all over again. Dean had been too quiet for your liking, but you could see from his expression and actions that he wasn’t acting this way because he was stressed at what he was putting his brother through, but more of the responsibility he picked up while you were sleeping. He turned around in his spot on the floor to finally face you and Bobby after he told you what he’d done, which lead to backlash and disapproving looks thrown his way. There was so much going on, and what Dean had done didn’t leave you looking any better. With at least a handful of hours of sleep and a change of fresh clothes, you still didn’t look rested. You let out a frustrated sigh and turned your gaze away from him, still not believing what he’d done.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but you willingly signed up to be the angel’s bitch?” Bobby tried to make sense of what the oldest Winchester had confessed to. Dean gave the man a look from the terminology he wasn’t exactly please with, but it was exactly how you felt about the situation. But you remained silent. “I’m sorry. You prefer sucker? After everything you said about them, now you trust them?”

The road leading to this moment was a long, confusing and very messy journey. Dean was freed from Hell by Castiel and his fellow angel buddies after they saw a purpose for the young man. But their reasoning had remained a secret for months, thinking the excuse of their generosity for saving him from torture and turning into the thing he’d hated the most was good enough for him to keep quiet and listen like a good soldier. It seemed too good to be true, and just a few months ago, it was. The truth had come out after spending a torture session with the demon Alastair, the one who’d cracked Dean into finally breaking down and torturing souls himself, yourself included. And they say everything happens for a reason. When Dean picked up the knife in Hell and started to slice away at the years of pent up aggression on souls, it was exactly what they wanted. Because it was the first seal to break in order to continue on with the others. Alastair admitted the information to you and Dean with a sickly twisted grin on his face as he choked on his own blood, unfazed by the gruesome things you’d done to him. And for the man who starts it, shall finish it.

Dean didn’t want to go crawling for help from Castiel, the angel who had not even a few days ago told the man he was above him, but it had to be done. The older Winchester knew it had to be done, even though admitting the truth of selling himself again to another creature left a bitter taste in his mouth—and showed the repetition of history, knowing that it was just a few years ago he’d sold his soul for his brother. But luckily enough he was fast this time to get anyone else from being pulled into this mess. You and Bobby still weren’t happy from what he’d done. “Come on, give me a little credit, guys. I’ve never trusted them less.” Dean walked over to the both of you and tried to explain his reasonings. You still gave him a look as you arched your eyebrow upwards. “I mean, they come on like shady politicians from Planet Vulcan!”

“Well, then why in the hell—”

“Because what other options do I have?!” Dean cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “It’s either trust the angels, or let Sammy trust a demon?!”

You locked eyes with the man when he raised his voice at you. All though it was a rare occurrence, you and Dean would find yourselves in fights that lead to voices rising, along with words that nobody meant to be shared. Today wasn’t one of those moments. He stared at you with a scrunched up face, obviously he was frustrated himself at what he had to do, but it was the desperate look in his eyes that showed why he did it. You couldn’t get mad at him because you would have done the same. Sam was your own little brother, you wanted nothing but for him to be okay. Ruby was proving herself to be nothing more than another sneaky demon. While you wouldn’t trust Cas with much of anything, the angels were transparent enough to show they really didn’t care for much except for making this entire situation to stop. You let out a sigh and nodded your head, mumbling something to the man about him having a point.

A the conversation dwindled down to a silence, you remained only a few moments in your thoughts for the outcome of what was going to happen from Dean’s decisions. You looked upwards from the floor that you’d been staring at and focused on the doorway that lead to the hallway of the basement. The room was quiet…almost too quiet since you got here. Furrowing your brow in concern, you looked over at the men to share your concern. "Do you hear that?”

Everyone continued to remain silent. Nobody heard even the faintest sound of Sam’s voice trailing from upstairs or a cry of help like he’d been doing for hours now. It was a quietness that made you believe something wasn’t right. “That’s a little too much nothing.” Bobby muttered, sharing the same concern as you when he noticed what the younger man had suddenly dropped to quietness.

Not a single word needed to be exchanged when you began running for the basement stairs, Bobby and Dean followed behind. You raced down the hallway and down the wooden steps without falling. Jumping down to the concrete ground, you ran to the iron door and hastily unlocked the latch before swinging it to the side. All of you peered forward into the small opening to figure out what was going on. You stood on your tippy toes and peered down to see that Sam was lying on the floor, sporadically moving around his arms, like he was having a fit or something. Dean examined his brother while he thrashed around in pain, he was unsure of what to make of the situation. You reached a hand to unlock the door and help the man, but Dean stopped you.

“What if he’s faking it?” Dean asked with a bit of hesitance.

Bobby looked at him, “You really think he would?”

“I think he’d do anything.” Dean admitted underneath his breath.

Sam was about to show his brother that his fit wasn’t an act at all. You’ve seen a lot of strange things in your life, nothing really scared you anymore, but, there was always an exception when it happened to people you cared for. Your eyes widened ever so slightly as Sam’s episode was turning out to be more serious than you realized. The demon blood in him was going haywire, making him do things that were out of his control. You watched as he was dragged across the cement floor before being lifted upwards and roughly thrown against the iron walls, making you flinch at the pained expression that crossed the man’s face. It only prove to be the beginning as the invisible force began dragging him, making him stumble into the wooden table you’d previously put a pitcher of water and some food for him to eat yesterday while he was sleeping. You reached for the lock when you realized this wasn’t an act all. Swinging the door open, you stepped out of the way for a moment as Bobby and Dean raced into somehow gain control of the situation before the younger man could have been seriously hurt.

You stumbled to your knees when the men managed to get Sam pinned down long enough to figure out what was going on. From the tremors that shook Sam’s body, it was clear that he was having some sort of seizure from your own past experiences of seeing them. You had a friend who suffered from epilepsy, and while some of them left her staring off into space, there were times when she would start having fits, just like what Sam was doing. “We need to give him something to bite on. Before he chokes on his own tongue.” You instructed as you put much pressure as you could on Sam’s arms and legs so he could stay still. Bobby undid his belt and forced the worn out leather into the younger man’s mouth so he could bite down on it. As the seconds pass, Sam showed no signs of stopping. “Damn it. We’re gonna have to tie him down or something. For his own safety.”

You were expecting to Dean to listen to what you were saying as you swung your leg over Sam’s body so you were keeping him somewhat still as Bobby helped you. But when you glanced away from Sam’s face as his eyes rolled back into his head, you saw that Dean was staring at his brother, almost with a horrified look at what was happening. You understood that he was scared, so were you, but now wasn’t the time to act on the feeling. “Dean? You with us?” You snapped at him. It was enough for the man to finally break away from his concentration when you brought him hurling back into reality. You gave him a look as Sam grunted from the weight you were putting on him, his instincts before logic was setting in, giving you little time before he could somehow over power the three of you. Without thinking of your tone, you snapped at him again. “Move it, Dean!”

Dean pretended like nothing happened and got up from the ground when he made sure you and Bobby had this handled for a second. He didn’t know what was going on. Normally it was him who called the shots and kept everyone under control, but here he was, nearly shaking with fear at what his brother had become. Bobby mentioned something about having some handcuffs upstairs, snapping Dean yet again out of his thoughts. Dean couldn’t help himself but look at the man who was supposed to be his little brother, but the person lying on the floor, well, he didn’t know who he was.

\+ + +

Sam felt the worst he’d ever been in his entire life. His head was pounding viciously enough to make it seem like he was hungover, and his entire body was slick with sweat from the close proximity he’d been in for hours. Or maybe it was because his body was purging and aching for anything that tasted like demon blood. He wanted it. No—he needed it. He would just about anything to get his hands on something that resembled it. Sam let out a breath as he came back around to opening his eyes after coming back into full consciousness. He had been feeling mostly like he was stuck in a fever dream, not sure what was real or reality. Sam had hallucinated things from Alastair torturing him to his young self, all the way to his mother. It was all like some nightmare that wouldn’t end. Opening his eyes, Sam realized he was lying in the cot, but as he tried to sit up straight in bed, he only got a little halfway before he felt a strain on his hands and feet. He quickly noticed that he was chained to the bed.

“We had to. The demon blood was flinging you all over the room.” Sam looked up to see that you were standing at the edge of the bed, your arms crossed over your chest. You stared at him with a sullen expression, the anger you’d showed him before locking him in here was long gone. Now you were scared from what you saw and full of sadness at how you had to chain him up like a wild animal. “Tell me, Sammy. Why did you do this to yourself?”

Sam exhaled a sharp breath as he looked away from you, suddenly overcome with frustration from the repeated question he thought had been clearly answered. “You know why.” Sam muttered underneath his breath, not wanting to waste his energy at repeating himself just for the sake of sounding like a broken record.

“Right. ‘Kill Lilith.’ The big excuse.” You said with a scoff. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him for a moment. Inspecting the minimal details of the room, you finally settled your gaze back to him. “But, why? For revenge?”

“Of course.” Sam answered. He was hopeful that out of anyone here you would understand how badly Lilith needed to be stopped. From being possessed by the demon and being forced to watch Dean be slaughtered by hellhounds, all the way to remembering the gruesome details of Hell after you were forced to drink her blood. But you wouldn’t see it that way still. You stared at him with a slightly softer expression, like how someone would console a child who had tried so hard to good, only to be proved how wrong they truly were.

“Revenge for what? For sending Dean and me to Hell? Didn’t you notice we’re back? Alive and kicking.” You said, defusing the only excuse that Sam really had going for the past year. “So, what’s the point?”

“The point?” Sam repeated after you. You seemed to have forgotten another one that he knew was yet another excuse of why he was becoming so close to Ruby. She was the only demon who had been helpful, not to mention his own blood bank when she thought it was time for him to feed again on the blood. But because of the intake he’d been ingesting, he needed a certain amount to keep him steady. It wasn’t helping that it’d been over a day without anything. He felt like he was going crazy from all the hallucinations he’d been having for the past several hours. Thinking you were really standing across from him, Sam continued on talking to the imagery you. “How about stopping the damn apocalypse?”

“That’s Dean’s problem! Not yours! The angels said so, remember? God picked him, Sammy. Not you.”You told him the truth that he didn’t want to hear. All of the hallucinations he was having over this entire span left him feeling worse. Because it was the truth that he couldn’t run from anymore. “So, have you got any other fantastic excuses? Hmm? Are you going to continue on wasting my time by lying to me straight in the eye? I mean, you’re pretty good at it. I’ll admit that. You did it for a long time. Why not just add a few more to make yourself feel better? Not like anyone would get hurt from a few white lies…Oh wait.“

Sam didn’t realize the hallucination of you was about to take a vicious turn for the worst. Your sullen expression disappeared, now you were staring at him with an arched brow and lips stretched into a half cocked smirk, like you were finding amusement from the pain you were about to inflict on him. "Remember Jessica? Pretty, petite Jessica. The woman you were gonna marry. You always thought her and I would get along great. You had everything planned out, down to the ring you were gonna buy. But you know what went wrong, Sammy?” You asked him, as if the man was going to respond. You began to take slow steps around the room, circling him like your weak prey, hungry for a chance to watch it squirm while it was under your control. “You lied to her. You lied about hunting and the Daddy issues that you carried around for twenty-two long years. Never once did you tell her about how she was bound to share the same fate as your own mother. And don’t get me started on Madison. You lied to her about finding a cure and look what happened because of it—You blew the poor woman’s brains out. You remember that, don’t you? Sure you do, Sammy. It gave you nightmares for weeks.”

Sam was lying in the cot now, somehow hoping if he shut his eyes and told himself that this was another hallucination, you would go away. But when he cracked open one of his eyes, you were still hovering over him. "What do you think’s gonna happen to Ruby if you get out of here? Are you going to suck her dry?” You asked him almost in a comical tone. Your lips stretched into a soft smile as your teeth pressed down to your bottom lip, as if you were trying to conceal a laugh. This was the kind of situation men feared. Jess had done it to him when they got into their first fight. She remained calm as she tore him apart when he accidentally did something stupid. Women had a power of being so vicious while managing to be calm and almost happy, like you were enjoying this. “I know why you really drink that blood, Sam.”

"Just leave me alone, Y/N.” Sam shut his eyelids tight as he could, but the effort was useless. He could hear your footsteps echo off the floor as you began circling around him, giving him a truthful insight of how he thought you and his older brother viewed him.

“Makes you feel strong. Invincible. A big bad wolf in a world of little piggies.” You Kept making him feel like the smallest thing in the room without even feeling the least bit regretful. “Let’s not forget, Ruby’s everything you need. She’s a manipulative little bitch who doesn’t die that easily. Not to mention a walking blood bag you can feed on whenever you very well damn please.”

“No.” Sam argued with you. “You’re wrong, Y/N.”

“It’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s because your whole life, you felt different. Am I right?” You presumed. Stopping in your tracks, you peered down at him when Sam pleaded for you to stop talking. “Oh, I hit a little close to home, huh? Not different because you were some…lonely kid or because of your weirdo family—”

“Stop it, Y/N.” Sam hissed at you with a venomous tone. He tried his hardest to tug at the restraints that kept him prisoner, but it was an effort wasted. Sam remained in the same position, being forced to listen to the honest thoughts he’d buried down for years.

You took small steps forward to the man until you were right next to the bed. Peering down at the man, you stared at him with an expression that turned into a cold hatred. You leaned over to his level so he was forced to look at you directly in the eye. “Because you’re a monster.”

“Shut up!” Sam yelled at you on the top of his lungs. He tugged and pulled at the handcuffs hard as he could. You continued staring at him with a glare.“Just shut the hell up!”

“You were always a monster. And you only feel right when you’re sucking down more poison and more evil. But that wasn’t good enough, wasn’t it? No.You just had to drag me into your sick and demented addiction. You just had to pump me more with demon blood. Just because your entire life is in shambles doesn’t mean you can destroy what’s left of mine.” You hissed at him. Sam shut his eyes and tried his hardest to pretend that you weren’t there. But it only proved to make things worse when he felt a hot breath tickle his ear. “Monster, Sammy. You’re a monster.”

You stood up straighter so you were looking at him in the eye again. Sam was being pushed to his breaking point, and no matter how much he pleaded for you to stop, it kept going. "After everything I did for you. I was the one who was there for you when your family abandoned you when you wanted to go to college. I went to Hell so you could continue living your pathetic life. I did everything for you. But I can’t do it anymore. Not after what you did to me. I mean, I tried so hard to pretend that we were family,” You shook your head in disapproval when he struggled once more. “That you weren’t one of the filthy things that we hunt. I thought I was bad, but look at you. We’re not even the same species. You’re nothing to me.”

“Don’t say that to me.” Sam whispered, his tone was pleading from the emotions that you were putting him through. You were supposed to be his best friend, the big sister that teased him and wanted nothing but the best for him. Both of you were different, he needed at least someone to be on his side. “Don’t you say that to me.”

All of this was becoming too much for him. Turning away from your scorned expression, he shut his eyes and tried his hardest not to shed a tear that threatened to fall from the guilt and sadness which ate away at his conscious. Sam forced himself to take in a few deep breaths and rethink the situation before it somehow could escalate more than it already has. When he managed to calm himself down, Sam decided that t was time to face his inner demons. He turned his head to look at you, but when he opened his eyes, the hallucination of you was gone. It was all in head.

But what he didn’t know was the very real you was standing right outside of the doorway, listening to the one-sided conversation. You had come down here to see how the man was after the fit that left everyone mentally exhausted with worry. It was right when you were about to open the door when Sam started talking to himself. At first you weren’t sure what was going on, but concern stuck you when you heard him start shouting with such a defense, you were tempted to go inside and console him, that was, until you heard him speak your name. Silence followed for a long moment as this one sided conversation continued on. You weren’t sure what Sam was going through, but it was slowly breaking him down, all the way to the point where he believed that you hated him. You quietly undid the latch to the door and peered inside to see that Sam was lying on the cot, probably trying to go back to sleep from the physical and mental torture he’d been through over the past day.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you pulled back the latch before locking into place. You headed back to the basement stairs and walked back to the top of the house to join the rest of the men, who had been occupying the library. As you headed down the hall without much noise, you found yourself again eavesdropping on a conversation. You stopped in your tracks and lingered at the doorway, curious to see what Bobby was going to bring up during your absence. “I’m gonna ask one more time. Are we absolutely sure we’re doing the right thing?”

“Bobby, you saw what was happening to him down there.” Dean defended his actions to the older hunter. “The demon is killing him.”

"No, it isn’t. We are.” Bobby spoke an honest truth of how he was feeling. Dean responded with confusion, unsure of why the man was suddenly showing his disagreement to the plan. “I’m sorry. I can’t bite my tongue any longer. We’re killing him. Keeping him locked down there. This ‘cold turkey’ thing isn’t working. If—If he doesn’t get what he needs…soon, Sam’s not gonna last much longer.”

The room fell to a complete silence when Bobby spilled how he was handling the situation, and it wasn’t well. All of you wanted to make sure Sam got out of this best as he could. While you presumed just letting the blood evaporate from his system, this wasn’t like any normal addiction that would pass with time. And Dean wasn’t willing to look at different options to save his brother. “No.” Dean’s answer made it feel like he punched you right in the gut. You furrowed your brow in frustration as he continued on. “I’m not giving him demon blood. I won’t do it.”

“And if he dies?” Bobby found himself asking the dreaded question.

“Then at least he dies human!” Dean snapped at the man, letting the answer fall from his mouth without a thought of what he was really saying. Bobby stared at the man with astonishment at what he said. “I would die for him or Y/N in a second. But I won’t let him do this to himself. I can’t. I guess I found my line. I won’t let my brother turn into a monster.”

You found yourself overcome with a bitterness from what you heard Dean say. You clenched your fists tight as you could as you kept yourself from marching in there and screaming at him. With blurred vision, you let the man hear your stomps across the floorboards before you were slamming the front door shut. Everyone had been saying things they didn’t mean over the past few days, the stress level between the four of you was higher as it's ever been. But there was something in Dean’s tone that made you realize he was serious. He actually viewed his brother as a monster and would rather see him die then recover. You were frustrated and angry from what was unfolding right in front of your very eyes. But it made one thing certain. It takes a monster to see another for who they truly are. Soon all of you were going to see.

\+ + +

You didn’t know how the hell it happened, but Sam was gone. Waking up this early morning, you thought the problem you were going to be facing in the first fifteen minutes was dealing with the ache in your lower back after passing out on the desk where you spent most of the night reading a book you’d found. You hadn’t spoken much to Dean after what you heard him say to Bobby, only a few mumbled ones here and there. What was there to say? You thought this plan of keeping Sam locked away would have worked. He would have gotten better eventually. Sam, the better and logical part of him that had been quiet for too long, would finally wake up and realize what he’d been doing was wrong and he’d just stop. Like it’d be that easy.

Your perfect fantasy was ruined when the three of you stepped back down into the basement and unlocked the thick iron door that lead to the infamous panic room. The nasty bruise that was starting to settle on Bobby’s cheek after Sam whacked him with the shotgun he was carrying should have been enough evidence to know the youngest Winchester went rouge. When you finally pushed open the heavy door and peeked inside for yourself to see, you felt the heavy burden of the situation that had been weighing you down slowly push you down even lower when you examined the room. Nobody was inside.

“How the hell did he get out?” Dean asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. You stepped inside the room and examined every inch of the place, wondering how Sam managed to get himself out of the cuffs. Sure, he’d slithered himself out of situations like that before, but you were smarter than most monsters you’d went up against. But even if he managed to get out, the door was locked from the outside. None of you were generous enough to let him roam free for time served with good behavior. All you knew that this was bad, very bad. Sam was spiraling out of control with his addiction, and you made it worse by letting him get only hungrier for more.

“Maybe he had help.” Bobby said, breaking your concentration away from your thoughts. You glanced down to the floor when you saw him pointing at something in particular. Furrowing your brow, you noticed right away the warning signs of this situation turning into a worst case scenario just from the evidence. “Room’s full of busted devil’s traps.”

“Demons?” Dean presumed, a bit skeptical of why they would be sneaking around to bust out his brother. Every single one of them wanted nothing more but to have the pleasure of killing yourself and the Winchesters. But not all of them were soulless monsters. His face dropped into surprise at the name which fell from his mouth when he realized who the culprit could have been. “Ruby.”

“That’d be my guess.” Bobby admitted. “How'd’ she even touch the door?”

“Well, she was a witch. That’s how she turned into the demon bitch we all know and hate.” You said. Reaching out a hand, you ran a finger down the material, feeling the rough iron brush against your skin. Your touch only lasted a few few seconds before you flinched away in pain, somehow it felt like you’d just put your hand on a burning hot stone. Wincing in pain, you tried acting as if it was nothing, thinking you must have accidentally touched a spiked edge. You went to examine the wound, presuming you could have broken some skin, but there was nothing there, like it never happened. “Do you think she’s got the power?”

“I don’t think so.” Dean said. But from the look on his face, he wasn’t sure what to believe anymore, or what she was capable of. Dean crouched down to the ground to inspect the devil’s trap that had been cleverly placed right at the doorway of the panic room, imprisoning whatever demon that might have been stupid enough to step inside without thinking. His index finger ran across the cold concrete when he noticed the trap was useless after someone destroyed the white outline of paint. “I don’t know what to think anymore, man.”

“Well, what difference does it make?” Bobby asked, knowing there were more pressing matters at the moment to dwell on. “How he got gone ain’t as important as where he got gone to.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll tell you one thing. At this point, I hope he’s with Ruby.” Dean said as he pushed himself up to a standing position. You gave him a strange look from what he mentioned and asked him why the change of heart. “Cause killing her’s the next big item on our to-do list.”

Dean headed out first of the panic room, gesturing a head for you to follow behind him to start on this master plan he was silently brewing in his mind, acting like what happened last night never happened. You looked over at Bobby when the man leaned against the doorway, deciding to bring up a point the man might have forgotten about. “I thought you were on call for angel duty.”

“I am on call,” Dean said. “In my car with Y/N, on my way to murder the bitch.”

“One thing.” You called out to the man. You exited the panic room and took a few steps forward to him when you thought a clinch in Dean’s plan before he could go through with it. “Sam doesn’t want to be found. Which means he’s gonna be damn near impossible to find.”

Dean didn’t share the same pessimistic thoughts as you did. He knew the kid better than he knew himself, and with your own tactics of tracking people down, he had a feeling this might end a little less painful than he was expecting. “Maybe you should get upstairs and start looking for him, Nancy Drew.”

The nickname that he’d used on you for years should have put even the fraction of a smile across your lips. You knew he was trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had been growing over the past several hours. Between the fighting and bumping heads of what was right to do, you knew deep down things were only going to get worse. You managed a nod of the head in acknowledgement of his remark and brushed past him to head upstairs to start tracking the youngest Winchester.You just hoped that when you found him, things went smooth—Sam would agree that what he was doing was wrong, Ruby would disappear to Hell where she belonged and everything would go back to normal. But that was just wishful thinking. Happy endings weren’t granted to people like you.

\+ + +

You spent the rest of the morning with Bobby, listening to the police scanner to find a possible lead of where Sam could have gone off. You had a bit of leverage when Sam had made the mistake of taking the hunter’s car. But you knew he’d abandon the first chance he could get so he wouldn’t make things easy of leaving a trail. Dean busied himself by gathering what was needed and worked on the Impala’s engine to make sure it was in check. You managed to find a few possible leads to where the younger Winchester could be heading next. Heading out to the junkyard with Bobby, you found Dean exactly where you had left him an hour ago. Hunched over the hood with the top open, you watched for a moment as he meticulously worked on the engine. He looked up when he heard your footsteps across the gravel and dirt.

“Police found Bobby’s car abandoned in an alley in Jamestown, North Dakota.” You said, giving him the information that you learned as you waved the small pile of police documents in the air.

“Well, he’s changing things up.” Dean muttered, not much surprise could be detected in his tone from what you told him. He snatched the oiled stained rag from the edge of the car and began wiping off the grease from his hands. “Any other cars stolen in Jamestown?”

“Two. 1999 Honda Civic—bue—nice and anonymous, how Sam likes.” You said. If you had to take a wild guess, Sam was keeping true to a few of his old habits out of comfort. Dean still asked what the other car that was stolen, prompting you to lightly chuckle. “White 2005 Escalade with custom rims. It’s a neon sign.”

“You’re right. He’d never take that. Which is exactly what he did.” Dean said, putting his own theory of what his brother was really capable of. You raised your brows from what he was suspecting. But you had to take his word for it, Sam was his little brother, after all, and he would do just about anything to get away from the both of you. “Alright, Y/N and I’ll head in that direction. You stay here, ride the police databases. We got to find him quick.”

Letting out a quiet sigh, you nodded you head in agreement with the man. Each passing second with Sam being gone like this was only making you grow more nervous for what the outcome was going to be. You headed for the passenger side of the Impala after giving Bobby a final goodbye. You and Dean loaded yourselves into the car and slammed the doors shut. With everything in check, he turned on the engine and placed both hands on the wheel, but his foot remained on the break for the longest time, keeping you here. It took a glance over at him from you to get the car into motion, and starting the tedious hunt for a man who didn’t want to be found.

\+ + +

"The cops found the Escalade in a ditch outside of Elk river.”

Bobby’s voice filled the Impala as you sat in the passenger side with your arm outstretched with your phone. While Dean drove down the dark and quiet country road of the next state, you kept yourself busy by discussing the update Bobby had after he’d called you a few minutes ago. You weren’t too surprised to hear the news, Sam was covering his tracks, faster than any of you could keep up with. But that meant you weren’t going to stop. “How far away are we?”

“Couple of hours. I pulled up a weather map, made some calls. There’s a town not far from there, Coldsprings, lightening up with demon signs.” Bobby said, sharing some information that could help lead you to the path of where Sam might have ended up. When there was demon activity, it could have been a possible sign Ruby in town, and Sam wasn’t too far from her grasp.

“That’s a good place to look.” Dean said.

“Hey, listen. Us finding Sam? That’s got to be about getting him back, not pushing him away.” Bobby shifted the conversation to the topic which nobody had formally brushed upon just yet. You moved your gaze away from the phone to look at Dean, who was focusing most of his attention on the road, but you could see even in the darkness that he was nervous for what was ahead. He wanted the best, but was planning for the worst. “I know you’re mad, Dean. I understand. You got a right to be. But, I’m just saying—be good to him anyway. You both got to get through to him.”

Dean didn’t contribute anymore to the conversation when he heard the other hunter’s advice. Before things could become awkward between the three of you, you mumbled a goodbye before you pressed your thumb against the top right button, ending the call

\+ + +

Sam was smart, but you were smarter. Hours of driving and countless trails had lead you to a small hotel in the town Bobby mentioned about. It wasn’t the usual two star motel the boys like to choose for hunts when you were staying in different towns. This place was quiet and cute, the perfect place for privacy. While Sam paid cash for the honeymoon suite with his blushing brunette and asked for privacy from the person running the hotel desk tonight. All it took was a sly little lie about a six-foot four cheating spouse and the second set of room keys were yours for the taking. You headed upstairs to the third floor of the hotel and counted down the room numbers until you spotted the suite at the end of the hallway. You and Dean leaned against the corner of the wall and patiently waited for the people you’d been searching for would make their exit.

It took a few minutes before you heard the hotel door swing open, all before quietly being shut and locked. You waited a moment as the footsteps crossed the hallway before you leaned over the side of the wall to see who it was. The stranger had their back turned to you, but from the height and familiar mess of brown hair, you knew it was Sam. You watched as he headed down the hallway before disappearing from your sight, leaving Ruby all alone. You looked up at Dean and nodded your head, signaling that the coast was clear. Shoving a hand inside your pocket to fetch the keys, you made sure the younger Winchester was gone before you started with your plan.

Ruby had no idea you unlocked the door and slid yourself inside, Dean trailed behind you with the demon knife tightly in his grip. The demon kept herself busy by packing up a bag full of clothes and other items you couldn’t see, all while she had her back turned to you. But the element of surprise didn’t last very long when she heard the faint squeaking sound of the floorboard. Turning around to see who it was, she was taken back when she noticed the knife coming straight for her, but she managed to keep the attack from Dean to a minor cut on her forearm. Dean tried again to take a stab at her, Ruby somehow tried to fight her way out of this, but the panic expression that was starting to cross her face was reason enough to believe she was scared at the outcome of this situation. She tried her very hardest to fight off Dean as she kept his wrist that lead the knife close to her chest in a tight grip. He fought back by swinging her away before pinning her against the divider to make his move.

Dean was so close to getting what he wanted, all he had to do was swing his arm upwards and stab her right in the chest to kill the bitch once and for all. But before he could get the satisfaction that had been building up for years, he was stopped when Sam came up from behind and snatched the knife from his grip. “No! Let her go!” Sam yelled in protest. Dean was flung to the bed after his brother pushed him away. You didn’t know how the younger man had managed to sneak through, taking down you, which wasn’t much of a struggle compared his height to yours, before tackling his brother. That didn’t bother you. It was the fact that he was trying his hardest to save the demon who started this mess. “Just take it easy.”

“Wow, that must have been some party you two had going, considering how hard you tried to keep me and Y/N from crashing it.” Dean’s sarcasm played the part to show his frustration to the situation while he pushed himself to his feet. Ruby stood behind Sam, afraid that either one of you were going to try something. Dean glanced away from his little brother and to the demon, he gave her a smirk. “Well, solid try, but, here we are.”

“Dean, I’m glad you guys are here.” Sam said. He kept himself rather calm for the situation that had just played out. The man knew you and his brother were beyond pissed at him, but he remained hopeful an explanation he’d been trying to confess could see the light of day. “Look, let’s just talk about this.”

“Soon as she’s dead,” You looked over at Ruby to prove your point, “We can talk all you want.”

Sam fell silent from the command that you gave him that he thought was up for negotiation. He was still holding the knife and was closest to the demon, but he wasn’t going to listen. “Ruby, get out of here.” He whispered to her, as if she was going to waltz right out of this room.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Dean hissed at his little brother. He went to take a step forward to the demon, but Sam blocked him, giving her a chance to slip out before either one of you could catch her. When you heard the door click shut, you knew there wasn’t a chance you could do anything even if you wanted to chase after the demon, Sam was still holding the knife. Dean looked at his brother with his own resentment and frustration. After all the long talks and warnings he’d given him, the young man was trusting the enemy. “She’s poison, Sam!”

“It’s not what you think, guys.”

“Look at what she did to you!” Dean couldn’t stand it anymore when he shouted at his brother, the emotional strain he’s been putting himself through was clear through the man’s voice. But his facial expressions told clearly of how he really felt. “She ups and vanishes, weeks at a time, leaves you cracking out for another hit!“

“She was looking for LIlith!” Sam really tried to argue with his brother, as if his excuse was perfect enough for the both of you to believe. It’s like he never once thought to believe that she really might have abandoned him for weeks at a time so she could draw out his need, so badly, to the point where he’d do just about anything to get his fix, making his thirst and need even stronger.

Dean scoffed at his brother’s weak argument, "That is french for ‘Manipulating your ass ten ways from Sunday.’”

“You’re wrong, Dean.” Sam said, still not backing down from the edge he was crawling towards.

“Sammy, you’re lying to yourself. What you’re doing isn’t okay.” You pleaded with the man, somehow hoping he could hear the concern in your voice. You wanted nothing more than to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he understood that pumping himself up with demon blood had its consequences. If he continued to spiral down this path, he was going to change for the worst. “We just, want you to be okay. You would do the same for us. You know you would.”

"Just listen.” Sam wanted nothing but a minute of your time, but your focus was kept on the knife that he’d been holding and what he’d planned on doing it after he glanced down at it to finally acknowledge the weapon he snatched from his brother. He made the mistake of tossing the knife to the bed and letting it disappear into the covers he once shared with Ruby just an hour ago, not knowing you watched exactly where it landed. “Just listen for a second. We got a lead on a demon close to Lilith. Come on, guys. We’ll do this together.”

“That sounds great. As long as it’s the three of us.” You said, setting down your own rules so he couldn’t bring Ruby into this continuous fight. “Demon bitch is a deal breaker. Kiss her goodbye, we can go right now.”

Sam’s answer was a predictable one at best, and the final straw for how you were going to handle the situation. You couldn’t just talk about this anymore and let him do whatever he wanted. "I can’t.” Sam admitted. You let out a heavy sigh as you shook your head in disappointment. “Y/N, I need her—to help me kill Lilith. I know you can’t wrap your head around it. But maybe, one day…you’ll understand.”

“Understand what, exactly?” You questioned him. “Your sick obsession with demon blood?”

“You know, if it wasn’t for her blood, you wouldn’t be alive.” Sam found himself accidentally snapping at you, overcome from the way you were looking down upon him. But in the midst of the heated comment, it sprung a dark secret he’d wanted to keep hidden for a little bit longer. He wanted nothing more than to dwindle away from the dreaded conversation topic he’d landed himself into, but you stared at him with eyes burning furiously, making him feel guilty all over again. Before you could ask him what he meant by that, the truth came tumbling out of his mouth. “I didn’t know if you were going to make it after what Alastair did to you and Cas refused to heal you. It was just a small amount, I swear—Ruby said it would help you.”

It took a moment before you realized what Sam had just admitted to. He had made the conscious decision to pump more blood into your system without your permission, discarding how you would react if he’d ever told you. But he didn’t for the past few months. While you wanted nothing more than to be furious and explode at him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t be mad at him, because the man standing in front of you wasn’t the same one you’d known for your entire life. “You need help, Sam.” You whispered to him. “Please. Just come with us to Bobby’s.”

Sam honestly thought you were going to understand that the demon blood wasn’t a curse, it could be used for good. But you kept clinging to the belief that he was sick in the head. He let out a heavy sigh, “I told you, I can’t. I’m the only one who can do this, Y/N.”

"No,” Dean interrupted the conversation. His voice was clear with venom at what his brother was saying. You managed to snake your hands around his arm and somehow pin him in place, not wanting a fight to break out. Dean inhaled a deep breath to keep his composure when he took the warning signal from you. “You’re not the one who’s gonna do this.”

“Right. That’s right. I forgot.” Sam said. He shifted his tone in sarcasm when his brother brought up the common misconception he’d been hearing about for months. You wanted this conversation to be civil and calm, but you had a dreadful feeling things were going to get nasty. “The angels think it’s you, Dean.”

Dean raised his brows, “You don’t think I can?”

“No. You can’t.” Sam said, giving his brother the honest truth of the situation. Dean’s expression stretched into a furious glare from what he was told. The man was always stubborn about hearing the truth, but it was a bitter pill he’d have to swallow. “You’re not strong enough.”

“And who the hell are you?” Dean questioned the man, offended from the presumption.

“I’m being practical here.” Sam said, backing away from being so aggressive in his tone when he realized his brother was becoming pissed off. He needed to persuade you and Dean that his plan was for the best. “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked his brother. There was nothing more he wanted to do than teach the man a lesson, maybe knock some sense into him. “You’re not gonna do a single damn thing.”

“Stop bossing me around, Dean!” Sam snapped at his brother. He was the first to raise his voice in this argument. Dean narrowed his eyes ever so slightly on his brother, he was waiting for any sort of excuse to start swinging and take down the man by surprise. But Sam refrained himself from adding fuel to the fire. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath and approach the conversation again in a calm, very strained, voice. “Look. My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots. You both have sacrificed so much for me. And I trust you because you’re my family. Now, I am asking you, for once…trust me.”

It was a touching speech, Dean would give his little brother credit for that, and all of you had done things to keep this family together. Dean would have let just about anything slip if it meant his brother would come back and make things go back to normal. But the man standing across from him was long gone, and he was using an ability given from the demon who’d put their lives into this mess of hunting. He couldn’t do it anymore. “No.” Dean answered his brother without a hint of hesitance. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Sam.”

“Yes, I do!”

“Then that’s worse!”

“Why?” Sam asked his brother. “Look, I’m telling you—”

“Because it’s not something that you’re doing! It’s what you are!” Dean found himself blurting out the confession that had been in the back of his mind for months, silently brewing with uncertainty, until this very moment when he saw his brother for whom he had truly become. “It means…”

"What?” Sam asked, unsure of what his brother meant by that. But it was the dead silence from Dean that made him realize what the ugly term was. His only brother, the only blood family he had viewed him as the creatures they hunted, things they wanted dead because they were different. Dean thought he was one of them because of his unorthodox behavior. But the man couldn’t bring himself to admit it verbally. “No. Say it.”

Dean stared at the other man with a pained expression, he didn’t want to do this. But it had to be done. He needed to show his brother the true consequences of his actions. From the lying, sneaking around behind his back, and now admitting to pumping you more with demon blood. He couldn’t keep acting like his brother was going to get better, because even if he did, Dean might never forgive him. “It means you’re a monster.”

Sam listened to the words, but took the meaning with a pinch of salt. Nobody understood what he was doing had been for the greater good. His brother wasn’t capable of taking care of Lilith, he was too fragile over the past year, tortured by the things he’d done in Hell. Sam could call the man standing next to you a monster for the emotional damage he inflicted in you. Sam was just trying to help. But instead, he decided to handle the situation just like his brother now viewed him as. He took a bit of inspiration from the conversation you and him had when you first met Cas. You’re only a monster if you act like one. And Sam was about to do that without realizing it. The Sam standing in front you and Dean was stronger, smarter. He proved the point by escalating the fight tumble to the floor, where he remained for a moment, take back from the turn of events.

“What the hell do you think—”

You should have seen this coming, but it took you by complete surprise. You tried your hardest to defuse the fight by yelling at Sam for what he’d just done, but Dean wasn’t going to accept this kind of behavior. He pushed himself to his feet and composed himself, acting as if nothing had just happened. Both of them stared at one another with cold, deathly glares, and an itch to tackle months and months worth of frustration and anger. Before Sam could take another swing, Dean roughly took his opportunity and threw a punch at the man. And that’s when all hell broke loose.

Punches were thrown around faster than you could watch as the brothers tried their hardest to take down one another. It was the fight to see who was the stronger man—the one with the better morals and strength to handle the big fight that laid ahead for them. Dean managed to throw in more punches that stunned the younger man, but Sam wouldn’t let that faze him. He took control of the situation by swinging a punch so hard, Dean found himself landing face first into a mirror, making the glass crumble into a spiderweb of cracks. And it was the move that put Sam into a winning position. Dean was a bit taken back from the blow to the head, but it didn’t mean he tried again to throw another punch at Sam, which the other man easily blocked. Sam grabbed his brother by the sides of his jacket and roughly swung him into the wooden banister that was displayed for decoration, and with enough force, Dean stumbled backward into the flimsy decor, and falling to the debris of broken glass and splintered wood.

Sam inhaled a deep breath and watched for a moment as his brother laid on the floor, the breath knocked out from his lungs after the throw. You tried your hardest to stop the fight before it could get worse, but Sam was already fueled with anger, and when you tried to even reach out an arm to touch him, it was proven to be the wrong move. He roughly grabbed you by the arm and shoved you across the room, making you skid across the floor and tumble to your knees. He discarded what he’d done without a single ounce of remorse and stalked after his brother. Sam crouched down to the man’s level on the floor, and without a warning, he wrapped his hands around Dean’s neck, cutting off any circulation of air to his lungs. Sam found himself squeezing harder and harder, wanting to prove a point, but all his brother saw was a twisted sort of smirk. Dean wasn’t sure if his brother was serious enough to actually go through with killing him, but the fight between them lasted only for a few seconds longer.

“Sam, stop it!” You screamed on the top of your lungs. The man waited a second before he finally released his hands from his brother’s neck. He let out heavy pants of breaths as he stood up to face you, thinking to himself that he was going to get himself into a fight with you. Part of you wanted to set them both straight and call them both monsters. Each man had betrayed your trust over the past year, between Dean torturing you in Hell and Sam pumping you more with demon blood. It was enough to push you over the edge. But you couldn’t get yourself there just yet. All you wanted to do was fix the situation and keep the only family you had left together. You stared at the younger man with almost a pleading expression as your eyes glazed over. You just wanted him to be okay. “I know you, Sammy. This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me.” Sam’s four words that he spat at you made you suddenly feel like a villain here. You furrowed your brow as you tried your hardest to keep your emotions under control. All your entire life you’d supported him, through college and hunting, even when he wanted to use his abilities without knowing the consequences of the demon blood. But when you tried to direct him off the self destructive path, he looked at you like you were wrong. After all you did for him, he made you feel like you let him down for the person he had become. “You never did. And you never will.”

Sam didn’t show a single ounce of hesitance when he stepped away from his brother and began making his way across the debris each of them had made. Dean was still lying on the floor, trying to recover from the pain, but it seemed he still had enough air in his lungs to give his brother a final warning. “You walk out that door, don’t you ever come back.”

You watched as Sam stopped at the doorway and listened to what his brother had said. Biting your bottom lip, you were waiting for him to take his hand off the door handle and make the right decision. But nobody was strong enough to admit their fault. They would rather repeat history and push one another away. Sam looked over at his brother and waited a long moment. He stared at the man who had sold his soul for him and went to Hell, the man who had tried his hardest to accept him for who he was. But none of that mattered anymore. Sam twisted the knob and swung open the door and stepped out into the hall, choosing Ruby the demon over his own family. You flinched when you heard the vibrations of the slamming door, signaling your worst fear.


	22. Lucifer Rising.

“Dean?” You ever so slightly called out the name’s name, wondering when he was finally going to stop staring out the window. Dean stood across the room of Bobby’s library with his back turned to you and his hands shoved inside the pockets of his navy blue canvas jacket. His body language did all of the speaking for him—the man was still upset at last night’s turn of events, and even with Bobby in the next room to give you both privacy, he refused to have this conversation. The wounds from his little brother were still tender and fresh. And they say you can choose your friends, not your family. The line for you had been blurred a long time ago, leaving you in a compromising position, unsure of who you sided with this fight. Sam had pushed your buttons and did things that were inexcusable, but last night was history repeating itself all over again. Except this time, you weren’t there for Sam, Ruby had taken your place. “Dean? Did you listen to a word I just said?”

The Winchesters weren’t the conformational type; Dean would rather cling to his damaged pride and recycled threats he spat at his brother than do the right thing. “Yeah, I heard you.” Dean’s response was half a minute delayed, leaving the room filled with an awkward silence as you waited for him to acknowledge your presence, making you wonder for a moment if he’d blocked you out all entirely. From the drone and grittiness in his voice, Dean hadn’t changed his mood all morning. You leaned farther backwards on the desk you were sitting on top of and crossed your arms over your chest. An eye roll expressed your frustration of the answer you didn’t want to hear after he spoke up once more to address what you had been talking about just a minute ago. “I’m not calling him.”

“Don’t make me come over there and slap some sense into you, Dean.” You threatened him.

“We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon.” Dean turned around in his spot on the floor to remind you of the fact. You bite the inside of your cheek from the thought you’d pushed off for most of the year. But the man standing in front of you seems to have been through a struggle himself. Despite the both of you getting at least a few hours of sleep with fresh clothes and a boost of caffeine you forced him to drink, Dean still looked like he was dragged from Hell and back, again, from the dark circles underneath his eyes and the unsettling stress on his face that even he can’t hide very well like he always could. “Don’t you think we got bigger fish at the moment?”

“I know you’re pissed, so am I, and I’m not making apologies for what he’s done.” You approached the topic you were about to embark on with a light as a feather touch. Neither wanted you to discuss the elephant in the room of the things Sam had done to the both of you. Between viciously beating his brother up and admitting to giving you more demon blood without your permission—not to mention the man had chosen a demon over his own flesh and blood. It seemed there was every excuse you could give to cut Sam out of your life completely without feeling guilty. But you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t just toss away someone when they hit their lowest point. "But he’s your…”

“Blood?” Dean finished your sentence before you could. You drew your gaze away as you let out a quiet sigh, Dean raised his brow when you took the chance to fall silent when you noticed he was becoming hostile towards you. “He’s my blood—is that what you’re going to say?”

“He’s your brother,” You reminded him of the fact he’d known too well. “And he’s drowning.”

“Y/N, I tried to help him. I did.” Dean said with a defeated tone. “Look what happened.”

Dean expected the lousy excuse he’d given you with slouched shoulders and tired green eyes would be enough for you to drop the argument and take his side. But you weren’t going to give up that easy, “So try again.”

“It’s too late.” Dean muttered underneath his breath as he slowly paced around to the other side of the room.

You rolled your eyes in frustration, “There’s no such thing.”

“No! Damn it!” Dean couldn’t help himself but lash out when you wouldn’t leave him alone about the sensitive subject and your too optimistic resolutions he knew would never work in a million years. But he realized just seconds later, when your eyes narrowed on him, you always hated it when he raised his voice at you. He could feel another pang of guilt and turned his gaze away. “No. We got to face the facts—Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up—ran away to Stanford first chance he got. And now it’s like deja vu all over again.” Dean wasn’t finished with letting himself wallow in self pity as he took a seat on the couch that was right across from the desk you were occupying. “Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him. He can do whatever he wants.”

You blinked and parted your mouth open slightly, but nothing came out. You were unsure of how to respond when Dean rambled on about his feelings that he’d kept bottled up all morning, or perhaps for the past few decades since his little brother was born and became his responsibility at the tender age of four when his mother passed. You couldn’t understand how he could say such hurtful things. This was supposed to be the same man who had sold his soul for and went to Hell for, who betrayed his father’s dying wish to kill his own brother when Sam began showing signs of being different. This wasn’t the Dean you had remembered just a few years ago—this was the side of John you’d grown to despise. The weak, cowardly man who was afraid to confront the dark side when it hit too close to home and burst the little bubble of safety he woven around himself like a cocoon.

“You don’t mean that.” You whispered to him.

“Yes, I do, Y/N. Sam’s gone. He’s gone.” Dean said, repeating the words a second time as the reality of the situation began to finally sink into his mind. He stared off into the distance as his eyes glazed over with a sullen aura. “I’m not even sure if he’s still my brother anymore. If he ever was.”

You’ve let a lot of things slip through your fingers and you’ve bitten your tongue when you wanted to desperately lash out at someone. But everyone had their breaking points. You shifted your eyesight around the room as you tried your hardest to keep yourself calm. The entire house had been drawn to a complete silence as the man found himself distracted by his own thoughts. You pushed yourself forward and landed on your feet with a quiet thud. Control your temper. You inhaled a deep breath and tried to count down, an old trick that helped you calmed down most of time. Ten…Nine…Eight…But you couldn’t get yourself past the number eight. The anger inside of you was clawing at your conscious like a wild animal, it demanded your attention. So, you said screw it.

Screw what your mother said about keeping your nose out of people’s business and not throwing a temper tantrum when you were upset—because it wasn’t lady like to show your feelings as a man could. Being calm and collective always worked, she would say. Screw that. You were tired of being the neutral party in this long and drawn out fight that was just history repeating itself all over again. You didn’t want to be the quiet woman who just sat there and listened while your advice gets tossed to the side. You were frustrated with having the Winchesters destroy their family bond for the sake of being right. So you were going to tell Dean exactly what you thought of him.

You couldn’t help yourself from what you did. It just sort of….happened.The urge to say something was too strong, and the words came tumbling out of your mouth right after all the papers on the desk flew right off to the ground, without anyone touching them. As a few scattering pages of lore began to float through the air like a feather, Dean jumped to his feet in surprise from the impact that echoed through the house, prompting Bobby to shuffle forward and figure out what the commotion was about. But he’d gotten a glimpse of the first act when you stormed forward to Dean, giving him a piece of your mind that had been bottled up.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel good—bake you an apple pie, maybe?” You asked him in a sarcastic tone of voice as you arched a brow to prove a point. Dean stared at you as his eyes widened just the slightest when he found himself taken back from your aggressive lash out he rarely seen in you. “New flash, idiot—they’re supposed to make you feel miserable! That’s why they’re family!”

"Listen—”

"Excuse me, did I give you any indication I was done speaking?” You cut off the man before you could hear one of his excuses he had come up with to end this conversation. The move had made Bobby snickering with amusement at how you stood up for yourself, Dean threw the hunter a glare to keep quiet. “And what was with you calling Sam a monster back there? You’re just as bad as him. I could have easily abandoned you for good after what you did to me in Hell. But I didn’t. I’m still here because you’re my family, and family doesn’t end with blood. And it sure doesn’t end when family does terrible things. That’s when they need you the most!”

“You heard me, Y/N. I told him, ‘You walk out that, door, don’t come back,’ and he walked out anyway. That was his choice!” Dean argued with you, but his attempt made you let out a laugh a you rolled you eyes in frustration. “After everything that we did for him, he still left us!”

“You sound like a whiny brat.” You hissed at him without letting him win this fight. Dean gave you a look as he scoffed underneath his breath. You followed him in your spot as he wandered back across the room and headed for the window again where you expected him to stare out of once again. "No. You sound like your dad. Well, let me tell you something—your dad was a coward.”

John was a touchy subject for the both of you, and it seemed you had a hit a nerve when Dean turned around in his spot and stared at you with a hardening expression. You had your fair share of moments where you and John fought and disagreed with what he thought was right, yet you would honestly still view him as your surrogate father when he was alive. But that didn’t mean you respected every decision the man made, unlike Dean, who had spent his entire life trying to be the man. “My dad was a lot of things, Y/N,” The man asked you with a calm voice, “But a coward?”

“He’d rather push Sam away than reach out to him. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t strike me as brave.” You said, admitting to him about how you honestly felt about John and his lousy decision to abandon his youngest child all those years ago. But when you found yourself becoming too harsh, you let out a sigh, speaking this time with a softer tone. “You are a better man than your dad ever was. So do us both a favor—don’t be him. Be the man I fell in love with.”

Dean listened to the words that you said, falling into another spell of silence, leaving you unsure of what he was going to say next, or if you had even broke through to him. You briefly closed your eyes and let out a sigh when Dean turned around in his spot at the window so he was now facing the outside again and his back was to you. As you let out a quiet sigh, you flicked back a small lock of hair away from your face. When you parted open your eyes to somehow start this conversation back up where it needed to be, it seemed you found yourself drifting to another topic, and another location for that matter.

The room you were standing in wasn’t Bobby’s library, with the faded floral red wallpaper and an endless supply of hardcover books that spread across the span of the entire room, stack on top of desks and cricity old shelves that almost seemed like they were going to fall apart from the slightest touch. You were in a place that was the complete opposite of where you just a second ago. You were standing inside an extravagant room that spanned out almost the entire square footage of Bobby’s house. The walls were painted a bluish gray, and everything that laid inside this foreign room was decked out with gold, even the furnishings on the walls. Everything seemed like it belonged to royalty. But as you turned your head slightly to the side, it appeared someone wanted to give you and Dean the special treatment.

You found yourself intrigued with the interior of the room as Dean was overcome with suspicion, unsure of what was going on. Something bad was always going on here, you just went with the punches. You reached out a hand to touch the marble countertop where laid two bronze statues of angelic creatures, but before your skin could run across the cold marable, you quickly found yourself drawing back when you heard a familiar voice speak with its gravely touch, it only made your suspicions of what was going on true. “Hello, Dean. Y/N.” You turned around in your spot on the floor to see that ti was Castiel who greeted you. He stood with his hands to his side and showed nothing more than a neutral expression—not too happy, nor did he appear angry. You furrowed your brow, wondering what kind of mess you’d landed yourself into from what you heard him say next. “It’s almost time.”

Part One:

What to do, what do? You cautiously put one foot in front of the other as your eyes wandered around the outrageous and downright gaudy room, with its breathtaking pieces of impressionism paintings that caught your eye soon as you noticed them hanging up on the walls. It would be a crime if you didn’t notice the furnishing cautiously balanced around, it made you feel well underdressed in your usual hunting attire. You should have known your angel buddies were apart of this elaborate scheme to whisk you and Dean away from the problems you were facing to focus on another. Dean was right about the apocalypse hanging right above your head. It was a matter of time until you were pulled into this mess once more, the man swore his obedience to the creatures who freed him from the depths of Hell. And it seemed they were thanking him by treating the man like a king from the special room they were keeping the both of you in without your permission. Or what the hell you were doing here in the first place.

There were more important things to worry about today than waiting around and wondering what was going on until someone decided to answer your questions. You stopped for a moment at the painting next to the bronze statue which you’d been previously examining before Cas popped himself through to say hello. Dean had been pacing around the room for the past few minutes, muttering things to himself you couldn’t quite hear from where you were standing, but you had a bunch he wasn’t exactly pleased himself at this morning’s outcome. He reached out and brushed his fingertips across the marble tabletop as he passed by, touching the cold stone that sent a shiver down his spine. As Dean cranked his neck upwards to take a closer inspection of the place, it didn’t come much of a surprise to see even the chandler was decked out with a style that wasn’t up to his personal taste. Everything in the room seemed to catch the eye to present itself with style and beauty one would envy. But with a closer inspection, it was useless and and cold. Dean thought of it as a metaphor for his fluffy feathered friends as he took a giant step forward to where you had been standing.

Breaking your concentration away from the artwork, you glanced upwards to make eye contact with Dean for a brief moment, the both of you shared a look of uneasiness from the mystery that was unfolding with no real reason. Mostly the room had been filled with such a silence, you could hear a pin drop. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, empty hollow of your stomach demanded attention with a rumble of a low growl, so loud, Dean heard it. You could feel a hint of a rosy tint brush across your cheeks from the noise in embarrassment, Dean raised his brows. The stress over the past few days had left you bearing not much of an appetite, until now it seemed. But your eyes shifted slightly away from him when you caught something from the corner of your eye. You noticed the table, which Dean had passed not even a moment ago, bare with almost nothing except for a bowl, was now replaced with a buffet of food. Furrowing your brow in confusion, you stepped away from the painting and walked forward to the table, slightly curious to see what this was about. You noticed right away the spread was your favorite food, something you’d been craving since you were a little girl. You inhaled a deep breath, the aroma of your mother’s famous chocolate chip cookies tingle your senses, hitting you with a wave of nostalgia.

Your eyes wandered around the table to see the food you’d been secretly trying to recreate over the past decade wasn’t the only option. Dean reached out a hand to inspect a glass bottle with its other dozen counterparts chilling in a bucket of ice, and by reading the label, you noticed it was his personal favorite beer. You looked over to see that someone had also took the liberty of providing food, burgers to be exact, and presented it on sterling silver. Out of curiosity, you grabbed a cookie from the plate nearest to you and sank your teeth into it. Right away it was like you took a bite into a little piece of heaven. It was the perfect temperature—not too hot, but still warm enough for the chocolate to melt in your mouth, and with the added touches of the buttery taste from the dough, it was exactly how you remembered from when you were still a child.

“Hello, Dean. You’re looking fit.” An unexpected voice caught you off guard. You dropped the nibbled cookie you had grabbed to the plate and looked forward to see who was standing across the room. It was someone you’d only met once after you spent three weeks locked away in a different life from your own. The angel standing with a friendly grin in his aged vessel was named Zachariah. He seemed to have passed on the formal greeting with a sprinkle of a compliment on to you. Swallowing the bite of food, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit uncomfortable from how the angel was staring at you. Most angels you met wanted to kill you, Zachariah seemed like he’d only wanted to treat you as a friend. “And the lovely Y/N. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

You peered slightly in your spot to see Castiel was quietly standing behind his superior, showing no sign of emotion again. He raised his gaze from the ground for just a moment when he noticed your lingering stare. You made eye contact for a split second before he turned his head away. "Well, how ‘bout this? 'The Suite Life of Zack and Cas.’” Dean scoffed, softly settling the beer bottle back to the cushion of ice. The man tried to be funny from the coincidence he noticed, but it was only responded with blank stares and you biting your lip to keep a smile from forming at the awkwardness, and Dean’s failed attempt at trying to retract from the joke. “It’s a—nevermind. So, what is this? Where the hell are we?”

“Call it a green room. We’re closing in on the grand finale, here. We want to keep you safe before showtime.” Zachariah said, casually strolling over to the both of you. You wondered for a moment of what was really going on here, but before you could voice a question, the angel directed the conversation away as he grabbed a burger from the top of the pile and handed it to Dean. “I see you’re making yourself at home, Y/N. Try a burger. They’re your favorite, Dean. From that seaside shack in Delaware. You were eleven, I think.”

Dean stared at the food, complimplating for a split second if he wanted to indulge himself, but he refrained. “I’m not hungry.”

“No? How about Ginger from season two of 'Gilligan’s Island’? You still do have a thing for her, don’t you?” Zachariah tempted the man to filling his time with another hunger. He disregarded you for a moment as he tried tempting the man into cutting loose. Your face scrunched up in anger as Dean seemed slightly weirded out from hearing this old fantasy be suggested out loud with such a casual tone. The angel tried sweetening the deal for him. “We’ll throw in Mary Ann for free.”

“While this is all tempting, and frankly, a little bit creepy,” Dean muttered the last part of his sentence underneath his breath as he looked away from the angel for a moment. He turned his head forward again, wanting to get the conversation back on track to figure out what really was going on here. “Let’s bail on the holodeck, okay? I want to know what the game plan is.”

“Let us worry about that. We want you…” Zachariah reassured the hunter as he examined the atmosphere provided for him. While the interior design was much too sophisticated for his personal taste, the personal touches of favorite foods and a woman for his company, if that’s why you were whisked along, should have been enough to leave Dean satisfied. But he didn’t seem to be thankful for what was being provided for him. “Focused, relaxed.”

“Well, I’m about to be pissed and leaving,” Dean threatened his departure from the lack of real answers he was receiving, which provided a reaction from the angel. Zachariah’s expression of hospitality slowly diminished from the insulting name thrown at him from the hunter. “So start talking, Chuckles.”

Zahariah let out a very faint sigh from the hunter’s ruggish personality. He placed his hands behind his back and began to take slow steps forward, you watched from the corner of your eye as he passed you by. The angel continued to walk around the room until he was standing behind the both of you, deciding to explain a bit of information you had fearfully knew was coming. “All the seals have fallen. Except one.”

“That’s an impressive score. That’s,” Dean followed in his spot and cracked a smirk, thinking it would be smart to throw in a remark. “That’s right up there with the Washington Generals.”

“You think sarcasm is appropriate, do you? Considering you started all of this?” Zachariah questioned the hunter, beating him at his own game. Dean fell silent, knowing it was his turn to look away from the jab he wasn’t expecting. You narrowed your eyes slightly at the angel in suspicion. He jumped back into his friendly personality and began walking forward, with a smile, he patted Dean on the back like they were old friends and headed back to where Castiel had been standing. You noticed he hadn’t moved a single inch since he arrived. “But the final seal, it’ll be different.”

“Why?” You asked him.

“Lilith has to break it. She’s the only one who can.“ Zachariah explained to you, giving you an exact date that was sooner than you could process. "Tomorrow night—midnight.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, “Where?”

“We’re working on it.”

Dean didn’t like the vague answer, “Well, work harder.”

“We’ll do our job. We’ve got leverage in this fight. That’s why Y/N is here.” Zachariah said, giving you a glimpse into an explanation of your presence. But you found more questions rising to the surface. You looked away when the angel gave you a quick smile, as if he suggesting you and him were going to be working close together, but you suddenly feared of why they really wanted you here. “You just make sure you do yours, Dean.”

“Yeah, and what is that, exactly?” Dean questioned the angel. “If I’m supposed to be the one who stops her, how? With the knife?”

“All in good time.” Zachariah said with a calm tone.

“Isn’t now a good time?”

“Have faith.”

“What, in you?” Dean asked, seeming to have the urge of scoffing at the humble advice. “Give me one good reason why I should.”

Zachariah approached the hunter. He had enough of the sarcasm and endless questions when he clearly answered the both of you best as he could. He stopped walking when he was just a mere foot away from Dean. The angel look at the man straight in the eye, “Because you swore your obedience.” He simply put it. “So obey.”

Dean wasn’t pleased from the dominance Zachariah was attempting to make in order to pin him down, but Dean fell silent when the bit of information was thrown in his face. You were beginning to see the power struggle unfolding here at a rapid rate. There wasn’t much room to figure out what was going on. You shifted your head slightly to look away from Zachariah and at the angel standing across the room. Castiel stood there like an obedient little soldier. Over the past year he had been not the best angel—from showing signs of disbelief of his orders and the countless times he had helped you and the brothers. He had finally been caught red handed and whipped back into shape after going against someone that was stronger than he was. Part of you suddenly felt guilty for him. Everyone in this room was being held down against their will to play apart in a fight, while you, still had no idea what was going on, or why you were here in the first place. But you just had a feeling…it wasn’t going to be easy.

\+ + +

They left you waiting again. You kept yourself occupied in the silence that had fallen over you and Dean by abusing the system to your favor. If they were going to keep you locked up in here without any real answers or explaination, the least they could do was provide some entertainment. You leaned forward in the seat at the marble table and continued reading some book you asked for off the top of your head. You were the slightest bit curious if they were going to keep up on their offer. In just a few seconds flat, Castiel was in front of you, holding the hardcover copy of the requested novel That seemed to have been hours ago, to Dean at least. He couldn’t get himself to ask for a favor, because it would make them think he wasn’t pissed at them for that stupid remark about obeying. He would obey, if they told him what the hell was going on here.

Dean kept himself occupied by pacing around the room and tapping his phone against his open palm, tempted to make call to Bobby after he noticed there was reception. The man must be worried sick about the both of you after the sudden departure. But that’s not who Dean really wanted to contact. He heard you pierce the silence by loudly flipped the page of the book before becoming engrossed back to the plot. The intrigued look on your face made Dean remember how his brother got that look when he would read books of lore for research. The memory made a faint smile spread across his lips, thinking of how much a nerd Sam was—and what you said about him this very morning. Dean looked down at his phone for a moment. “Ah, screw it. He thought to himself. Deciding to bite the bullet and be the bigger man here, Dean flipped open his phone and pulled up his brother’s number, before he could chicken out, he pressed the send button.

Listening to the phone ring a handful of times, Dean should have saw it coming, when nobody answered, leaving him to his brother’s outgoing message. Dean was tempted to just hang up and forget everything. But when he heard the beep, the words came rambling out. "Hey, it’s me. Uh,” He awkwardly cleared his throat and began pacing around the room again. The direction he was heading was away from you as he lowered his voice so this conversation remained private. “Look, I’ll just get right to it. I’m still pissed. And I owe you a serious beatdown. But…”

You finished reading the last sentence of the chapter, tempting yourself to start another, you were about to turn the page, but Dean’s voice pulled you away for a moment. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. You know, I’m not Dad.” It took you a second to realize he was trying to leave his little brother a heartfelt apology. You could feel your lips stretching into a small smile, happy to see that, for once, Dean listened to your advice. “We’re brothers. You know, we’re family. And no matter how bad it gets, that doesn’t change. Sammy, I’m sorry—” Before Dean could apologize for the harsh accusation, which started the fight in the first place, the call ended.

\+ + +

Dean wasn’t the most patient person, and you were beginning to find yourself becoming restless. You stretched out your legs after spending an unknown amount of time sitting down and reading until you were finished, somehow you couldn’t break away for very long, it was like you were hooked on every last word until the end. You wandered around the room that was starting to make you feel the slightest bit claustrophobic. Four walls and no windows, along with a door that was locked shut. You crossed your arms tightly around your chest and let out a heavy sigh. Most of the room had been reduced to the eerie silence which hadn’t been broken for a while. You licked your lips and turned your head to look at the painting above the fireplace to keep yourself busy. But your head snapped to across the room when you heard a crashing sound pierce the air.

You glanced down at the ground to see a ceramic angel shattered into tiny pieces at Dean’s feet, and the smirk of satisfaction for what he’d gotten away with stretched across his lips a second later. You let out a frustrated sigh and opened your mouth to scold him a like a child. Before any words could come out, another voice spoke for you. “You asked to see me?”

Castiel stood right across from the both of you. You turned away from the mess and upwards at the angel that appeared out of nowhere. He acknowledge your presence before his eyes wandered down to the mess at Dean’s feet. Frowning slightly, you looked down to examine further of how bad the damage was, but at the second glance, it was gone. Dean furrowed his brow and looked over his shoulder. The statue that he’d broken just a moment ago was back to normal, as if nothing happened. The hunter found himself rolling his eyes in frustration. He glanced back at the angel and cleared his throat, deciding to get this conversation started. “Yeah, listen. I, uh, I need something.”

“Anything you wish.” Castiel said.

“I need you to take me and Y/N to see Sam.” Dean instructed, but it came with a question why from the angel. “There’s something I got to talk to him about.”

“What’s that?” Cas asked once more.

“The B.M. I took this morning. What’s it to you?” Dean grumbled with a bit of frustration. “Just make it snappy.”

Castiel offered a piece of advice neither of you asked for, “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Well, we didn’t ask for your opinion.” You remarked, putting yourself into the conversation. “You heard what Dean asked for. So do it.”

“Have you both forgotten what happened the last time all of you met?” Castiel asked.

“No. That’s kind of the whole point, Cas. We need for them to make up for the millionth time before the big show starts.” You told him. “Listen, obviously Dean swore his obedience to you and your buddies. We just need to tie up this one thing. Five minutes—that’s all we need.”

“No.” Castiel answered you.

You should have seen it coming, but you were back from his blunt response you were expecting to hear. “What do you mean, no? Are you saying that we’re trapped here?”

“You two can go wherever you want.”

“Super. We want to go see Sam.”

“Except there.”

You shifted your footing around and tried your hardest not to snap at the angel, who was leading you into a circle from this little back and forth. You threw your hands up in defeat, deciding that you weren’t going to get anywhere. But Dean decided to try his luck at tricking the angel into doing a favor that was against the rules.

“I want to take a walk.”

“Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“Alone.”

“No.”

“You know what? Screw this noise.” Dean muttered, shaking his head in aggravation from the lack of progress he was getting. He nodded his head at you to start heading out. If there was an exit, he was going to find it. You listened to the nonverbal command and began walking forward, Dean following on the back of your heels. “We’re out of here.”

Castiel turned around his spot, watching for a moment as the both of you headed for the double doors that wouldn’t be there for much longer. “Through what doors?” The angel’s question made you stop in your tracks. You looked over your shoulder to stare at him for a second, unsure of what he meant by that, but a second later, it clicked in your head. You quickly looked forward again from where you were going—only to see the way out of here had disappeared, leaving nothing but a blank wall to mock your attempt of outsmarting your enemy.

\+ + +

Patience had turned into frustration. And the frustration you had been feeling since Cas left you stranded here was twisting itself into aggression you kept buried down, afraid what you would do. You tried keeping yourself calm by pacing back and forth around the room, hoping to find some small loophole you could use to your advantage. But you couldn’t get yourself to concentrate for more than a few seconds. You turned around in your spot to see that Dean was trying to make his great escape by breaking down the wall. He didn’t seem to show no remorse as he snatched a heavy bronze statue from the table and began whacking away at the drywall, making it far as about three hits until you lost your patience. You opened your mouth to tell him to stop, but when you looked over at the damage he made, you were surprised to see the wall was back in tact.

Dean reached out a hand to inspect the renovation completed in a blink of an eye, he felt nothing but smoothness, as if nothing happened. “Son of a bitch.” He mumbled underneath his breath. He tossed the heavy statue to the ground, disregarding the proper spot he’d found it.

“Quit hurling feces like a howler monkey, would you?” You looked over your shoulder when you heard a voice coming from behind. Zachariah stood across the room, deciding after what seemed like hours of keeping the both of you locked up without a proper explanation, he decided to grace the both of you with his presence. He stared at the hunter with the least bit amused expression from his useless attempts of escape. “It’s unbecoming.”

Dean wasn’t the slightest bit amused from the sarcastic insults. He stalked forward to the angel, and in low tone, he demanded a request. “Let us out of here.”

“Like I told you—too dangerous out there.” Zachariah denied him. “Demons on the prowl.”

“We’ve been getting our asses kicked all year. Your little puppets treated Y/N like she’s nothing for months. Suddenly you’re treating her like she’s your MVP. And now you’re sweating our safety? You’re lying.” Dean couldn’t help when he lashed out once more, biting at the hand which seemed to believe he had given the both of you the world on a silver platter. “I want to see my brother.”

“That’s…ill-advised.” Zachariah said.

“You know, I am so sick or your crap riddles and your smug, fat face.” Dean hissed at the angel, deciding to hit below the belt and attack the vessel which the angel chose. Zachariah seemed to show no emotion from the jab directed at him as he continued to remain silent, allowing the hunter to continue on, throwing an array of questions at him. “What the hell is going on, huh? Why can’t I see Sam? How is Y/N apart of this crap show? And most importantly, how am I gonna ice Lilith?”

Zachariah fell silent as he became rather annoyed from being bombarded with a pair of curious minds, for it was something he wasn’t used to working with. He let out a deep sigh, deciding that it was time to stop this little charade and speak the truth he’d been withholding. “You’re not…going to ice Lilith.” Zachariah said, using the man’s words to help explain the situation easily as he could to a couple of humans. But you still furrowed your brow in confusion from what he was trying to say. “Lilith is going to break the final seal. And Y/N is going to help her.”

Part Two:

The sound of your nervous laughter broke the thick silence that had wrapped tightly around your throat, making you forget how to breathe for a split second when you heard what Zachariah had said. For a moment you thought he was being serious. You were going to help breaking the final seal? No. no, that wasn’t going to happen. You’ve spent all these months trying to be one step ahead of the demon to make sure this wouldn’t get far as it did. Why would you turn your back to all of your morals to help Lilith? She was a demon, first off. Not to mention everything that she had forced you through. Dangling the deal of your head, watching the man you love be torn into pieces, and the drinking of the demon blood. Now it was your turn to see her head on a spike after you were done with her. Your chuckles turned quieter as you looked at Zachariah with an arched brow, wondering if this was some cruel joke he was saying to get under your skin.

“No, no—that’s not possible.” You denied the information with a strong and defiant tone, trying to stand up for yourself at this ridiculous claim. For a moment you thought about laughing again, but nobody seemed to have the same reaction. Your smile began to fade away after a moment, drawing the room to a complete silence. You turned your gaze away from the angel and to Dean, wondering if he was finding any of this true. His infamous poker face, that could fool you into thinking he was all right, was starting to crumble from the change of plans nobody saw coming. It rendered you into believing this was true. You swallowed and slowly drifted your gaze back to Zachariah. “I would rather die than help that bitch.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter, Y/N. Fait accompli at this point.” Zachariah shrugged off the fear that he was starting to see creep into your eyes from the realization. You watched as he strolled across the room and unbuttoned his suit jacket, he took it upon himself to take a seat on the the couch right across from the both of you. He got himself comfortable and gave you a casual look, as if he was discussing the weather, and not the fate of humanity. You looked away from him to stare at the mirror that hung directly next to him. An infinite amount of faces stared at you from the side angle, showing you an infinite amount of enemies that wouldn’t let you run from your new found fate. “Train’s left the station.”

None of this was making sense to the both of you. For months you had it drilled into your head the reasoning Dean was pulled from Hell was because he needed to stop Lilith from breaking more seals before she’d gotten to the final one. For who starts it, must complete it. "Me and Y/N, we’ve been—But we can…” Dean started talking, trying to reason with this preposterous idea that was trying to be planted in his head. Zachariah leaned further into the cushions and stared at the hunter with a smug smirk. The reality of what was going on here, and the angel’s casual attitude, made Dean feel like someone had punched him in the gut from what he forced himself to ask. “You don’t

to stop it, do you?”

“Nope. Never did.” Zachariah answered with a cheery tone. This was his chance to kick his leg over the other and spread his hands across the couch, getting himself to relax even further. His lips stretched into a smile, enjoying himself too much with explaining today’s situation to a couple of humans so they could understand. Everyone always fear the end of the world would come at some point. Maybe it would have come from the new millennium. But when that didn’t come, others suspected in a few short years when the Mayan calendar had run out, it would because the world to end. But nobody would have expected to see this coming—a fatal battle between good versus evil. It was only possible because of the both of you. Dean pushed the first domino to kick start the apocalypse, and it seemed you were doomed to finish. “The end is nigh. The apocalypse is coming, kiddos, to a theater near you.”

You sank your fingernails into the palm of your skin, finding Zachariah’s casual attitude from this entire situation he was explaining a little bit too aggravating for your own good. But the fear of his truthful words made your tongue frozen, keeping you silent from saying anything snarky to push his ego down a few notches, despite how desperate you wanted to. You knew in the back of your mind there wasn’t a chance in the world you were going to involve yourself with this mess, or Lilith for that matter, unless it was to see her die a slow and painful death. You would rather go back to Hell than be apart of this. “All this talk about saving seals,” You found your voice after a pause of silence rendered you speechless for a moment of time. “What was that all about?”

“Our grunts on the ground—we couldn’t just tell them the truth. I mean, we’d have a full-scale rebellion on our hands. Think about it,” Zachariah explained his reasoning to the both of you as if his this would help put everything into a better perspective. But all you could feel was a wave of nausea from the word he slipped into the conversation. It was something you stumbled upon after arriving back from Hell. Never did you think it would come true. “Would we really let sixty-five seals get broken and have a little cambion running around for all these years? I mean, you humans and react so barbarically when when your own kind are just a tad different from your pathetic and idealistic standards. We just kept all of this hush hush until now. Do you think we would have let this all happen unless senior management wanted it this way?”

All these months of breaking your neck to make sure you saved a seal, the endless arguments just trying to prove that you were fighting for the good guys. You suddenly felt like an idiot when you realized what you had said to Cas out of a fit of anger back when you were trying to save Sam from Lilith. You threatened him with the possibility of joining the darkside and helping the demon break the final seal to bring Hell on Earth. It was just a cruel attempt at making him do what you wanted in the heat of the moment. Never did you think it would come true. “But why?”

“Why not? The apocalypse. Poor name, bad marketing—puts people off. When all it is ali/foreman—on a…slightly larger scale. And we like our chances.” Zachariah continued to speak about this entire situation, and no matter how hard you tried blocking him out, his voice filled your ears. You turned your back on him and focused on something else in the room. When you spotted a painting right in the focal point of your direction, you examined it, hoping for a sweet escape from reality you were being hurled into head first. But you could feel the anxiety only build up more when you noticed the subject of the painting was a group of humans trying to fight their way out of a chaos of fire and biblical looking demons. “When our side wins—and we will—it’s paradise on earth. Now, what’s not to like about that?”

Everything. Everything was not to like about the little fantasy Zachariah was proposing. He left out the grueling details of what was really going to happen when the Devil himself stepped foot on earth. There would be nothing but pain for the bystanders involved and a terrible nightmare which nobody could have imagined, not even the holy book itself or all those forms of entertainment, could describe the disastrous body count that humanity had never seen before. "What happens to all the people during your little pissing contest?” Dean hissed out the very important question.

“Well…you can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. In this case, truckloads of eggs. But you get the picture.” Zachariah pushed himself to his feet once more and buttoned his suit jacket, keeping his formal appearance neat and tidy, despite how savage and barbaric his were were. He let out a sigh as he tilted his head to the side, seeing the both of you weren’t changing away from the dreadful expressions. He stepped forward and approached you, knowing it really was you he had to warm up to at the moment. A human with a twisted soul would be easier to sell than a hunter with a mind full of guilt and depression. “Look, it happens. This isn’t the first planetary enema we’ve delivered.”

You stared at him with a baffled expression, wondering how he was finding all of this to digest. Angels were supposed to be the good guys here, the opposite of Lucifer. But it seemed Zachariah couldn’t make a remark about how humanity was crumbling to a bunch of neanderthals, his gaze drifted to the very silent Dean, who had been eyeing the bronze statue and thinking of an escape plan that wouldn’t be in his personal favor. “Uh, no, Dean. Probably shouldn’t try to bash my skull in with that thing. Wouldn’t end up too pleasant for you Y/N.” Zachariah threatened the man with a casual tone. “We’ve still got time until she’s useful. And I can get creative.”

"What about Sam?” You ignored the threats being brought against you, it wasn’t the first time hearing something like this. You suddenly remembered that the younger Winchester was roaming around with Ruby, silently plotting his way of killing the demon. He was your only real chance at stopping this mess before it was too late. It wasn’t that long ago you were thinking about cutting him completely out of your life from what he’s done. Now, you would do just about anything to make sure he was safe out there. “He won’t go quietly. He’ll stop Lilith.”

“Sam has a part to play. A very important part. Both of you do.” Zachariah was full of information today, delivering information nobody would have suspected. You furrowed your brow from what he was trying to say, he was acting as if this was some clear explanation, but all it was just cryptic words, leaving you with more questions of what the hell was going on. “You and him may need a little nudging in the right direction, but I’ll make sure you play it.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s voice broke your attention away from the angel. You turned your head to look at him, the hunter with absolute anxiety clear in his eyes. He was being pulled into too many directions all at once. Just the thought of his little brother out there alone, and your unknown reason of being thrown into this mess—it was pulling him to the edge. He took a step forward and look Zachariah straight in the eye. “What are you going to do to them?”

"Sam, Sam, Sam. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. Forget about Sam, would you? And Y/N here will know soon enough of why she’s here. You, my friend, have larger concerns.” Zachariah steered the conversation back to the point where he wanted to make for the young man. He reached out and lightly patted a hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to make it seem like they were buddies. Dean shrugged off the touch and backed away. “Why do you think I’m confiding in you? You’re still vital, Dean. We weren’t lying about your destiny. Just…omitted a few pertinent details. But nothing’s changed. You are chosen. You will stop it. You just won’t stop Lilith or the apocalypse. That’s all.”

“Which means?” Dean questioned, sick and tired of this guessing game.

Zachariah fell into a moment’s silence, dangling the hunter on the edge of suspense once more, he thought letting Dean wait a few seconds more wouldn’t hurt until he was told the real answer of why he was pulled from Hell. The angel turned his gaze away to examine another painting that was right in front of him. "Lucifer.” Zachariah gave a straight answer for once. You glance forwards to see the subject of the artwork was of a deadly battle. A man hovering over a beastly creature. You tilted your head to the side when you noticed the scales hanging off each of his arms. It signified a proper balance of proper justice. The righteous man fighting the Devil. “You’re going to stop Lucifer. You’re our own little Russel Crowe, complete with surly attitude. When it’s over, when you’ve won…Your rewards will be, unimaginable. Peace, happiness…two virgins and seventy sluts.” Zachariah chuckled at the situation that had unfolded, thinking that it was nothing to him. He began walking away, thinking the conversation was done. The angel had told you everything, why should he stick around longer than needed. “Trust me—one day, we’ll look back at this and laugh.”

“Tell me something.” Dean spoke up, watching for a moment as Zachariah began to make his grand escape out of here. The angel stopped for a moment, ever so curious to see what the man was going to ask. “Where’s God in all of this?”

“God? Well,” Zachariah gave him the cold truth with a smirk neither one of you could see. “God has left the building.”

Before Dean could open his mouth to speculate what the man meant by that, he blinked, only to notice right away he was left alone. He let out a long and frustrated sigh. “Son of a bitch!”

\+ + +

Your body felt uneasy, everything around you was spinning almost out of control. It kind of reminded you of the time when you were a kid at birthday parties when it was your turn to hit the pinata. They would make you lean your head against the baseball bat and spin around five times until you were reduced into a dizzy mess, frantically trying to figure out where the paper mache target was, and it didn’t help you were blindfolded and whacking around a heavy object. You felt like that right now. Closing your eyes, you inhaled a deep breath and forced yourself to take a much needed moment to process the information, and wonder if this really was happening. You rubbed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. After a moment of standing in complete silence, you dropped your hands to your side and hesitantly opened your eyes, wondering where you had landed up. You were in another room, far away from Dean if you presumed, leaving him alone to process the uneasy information, but you couldn’t deny there was a subtle beauty of the room that managed to take your breath away, and kept your focus for a moment’s peace.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.” Zachariah’s voice broke the sweet moment of peace that you had been given in the last several hours of what felt like you were trapped here. You slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder when you realize he’s standing behind you, giving the element of surprise to try and sneak up on you, but the only response he gets is a deadpan stare. The angel doesn’t seem to appreciate your reaction one bit. “You might want to get rid of that attitude, Y/N. After everything we’ve done for you, a thank you would be nice.”

"What you’ve done for me?” You repeat his words as you turn around in your spot. Arching your brow in curiosity from his certain choice of style at how he’s approaching this situation, you aren’t the least grateful for what he’s doing. “For the past year all you’ve done is make my life a living hell. Between jumping through hoops to save all these seals and being told to stop Lilith. Only to find out it’s a complete lie. Not to mention the constant mistreatment. As far as I’m concerned, you’re no better than demons and the things I hunt. Why should I trust anything you say?”

“Because unlike the uncultured swine, I’ve got something you want to know about.” Zachariah’s approach at starting a civil conversation between the both of you catches your attention. But you pretend to show little interest in what he has to say, you still aren’t sure sure if what he preaches is true. You cross your arms over your chest and straighten out your shoulders, the silence that follows you leads him into believing you want to hear what he has to say. “Let’s talk about all those visions you’ve been—oh, I’m sorry. You’ve been calling them dreams.” Zachariah corrects himself with a smile as he stops in his track while he crosss the room. You give him a look, unsure if the anger had crossed your face or the fear had finally bubbled to the surface. “You, little lady, are the key to finding out where the last seal is. You’re the golden ticket everyone wants to snatch up. Lucky for us, we got to you first before they could get their grubby hands on you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked him. You followed his movements around the room, from what Zachariah is speaking, it only leads you more baffled from when you first gotten here. “I don’t know anything. I thought Lilith was the only one who could break the final seal.”

“Well, she is. But it’s the Devil in the details that makes this situation more complicated than we originally planned. It seems the only way the final seal can be broken is for the first of Lucifer’s kind to be present to welcome him.” Zachariah explained the situation to you, giving you the answer that should have summed everything up over the past several years that had been brought on to you. But the response he was given from you was a very confused expression, wondering what he meant by that, and what it had to do with you. “You’ve never heard of why Lucifer was cast down to Hell, have you?”

“He’s not someone I frequently research about. So sorry for not knowing.” You retort, giving him a bit of a sarcastic remark to show what little patience you had remaining. Zachariah doesn’t seem very happy again from the lip you’ve given him. “A demon told me he was once one of you. Is that true?”

“He was. You wouldn’t believe it, but Lucifer loved God, too much, some would say, and when humanity was created, Lucifer refused to bow down to them. One thing lead to another, someone decided to try and retaliate, giving birth to the very first demon, Lilith.” Zachariah explained the history of how everything came to be. “He twisted her soul around until she turned into the first of many demons that you hunt. Lucifer did it because he despised humans. He took something God loved more and turned it into a monster. But for him, that wasn’t good enough. He needed to do worse. He wanted to take God’s favorite creation and turn it into a real abomination. Lucifer wanted to know what it was for someone to create a human life in his honor.”

You didn’t want to hear what he had to say next. Zachariah’s attention had drifted to the details of the room, seeming to find this conversation much too casual. You wanted nothing more than to run from this conversation, away from everything that was happening. If you thought finding about the supernatural when you were younger was traumatizing, destroying the comfortable bubble you’d lived in, this was like someone dunking you head first into a bath of freezing water from what you didn’t want to hear. It’d been talked about, hinted around by everyone for years, some called you a mutt for a comedic effect, but you never really knew what they meant until this very second.

“Your parents were the perfect candidates Azazel was looking for. Ella couldn’t get pregnant, no matter how hard she tried. She would pray every night for almost a decade for some kind of miracle to happen. But it just wasn’t meant to be. And you know about Andrew, the rare and usual of his kind. Nobody has ever heard of a demon somehow turning into a human. But that’s just details.” Zachariah said, shrugging off the things that he was saying without much care. “You’re the best of the worst. You might look like a human to the naked eye, but you’ve got the soul of a demon. Some might call you—”

“A cambion.” You cut him off when you know what he was about to say, but your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. It was a term you had looked up when you first got out of Hell after what Ruby had said about you. Whispers and speculation over the years had made you slightly curious, but to find out that it’s true, it leaves you speechless, unsure of how to react But for a brief moment your mind tricks you into believing all of this is a little tricks he’s pulling on you. This isn’t real. So, you decided to have bit of fun. “So, what? Are you telling me that I’m Rosemary’s baby? The anti-christ?”

"Oh, don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re not that important to us. You’re truly are nothing but a mutt.” Zachariah gives you a smile, deciding to play along with the attitude you’re giving him, only to make a jab himself. “The only reason why I even allowed you to live this long is because you’re needed. Perhaps this is a good time for you to take part of the role women have been keeping for thousand of years. Learn to be quiet and do what you’re told. It’ll benefit you if you want to live past tomorrow night.”

You fall silent from the belittling remark that takes you by surprise. You tighten your arms around your body as you look at him with a deathly glare, hoping he would disappear when you blinked. But his fat, smug face is still looking at you when you opened your eyes a second later. You know you’re on thin ice with him, but it’s in your nature to test him further. "And what if I don’t?”

“Don’t push your limits, Y/N. I’ll make Hell look like a cake walk when I’m done with you.” Zachariah threatens you with a subtle touch that sends you quiet for a moment. But it’s not enough for you to steer direction. He decides that your silence is enough to get moving, and as he begins to walk away, you find it a bit strange that he stops for a moment to stand right next to you. As if someone was listening in on your conversation, he leaned forward so he’s towering over you. “I wonder how Dean would like to relive his greatest hits in Hell. And I know once we get our hands on Sam, he’ll be in for a hell of a time. I’ve got plenty of time to waste until tomorrow night.”

Zachariah was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid, and it seemed he’d proven himself of not being afraid to get his hands dirty from the threats he pulled out from thin air. You were stricken silent, knowing well enough from the smirk that was slowly crawling at the ends of his lips, he was nothing but serious about his words. He decides the conversation is best to leave it at that note, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you and Dean, vulnerable and stripped away from any chance of getting out of here. You watch as he steps away from you and is about to vanish from sight, but before he does, you stop him, cracking faster than Zachariah expected. “Wait.” You call out, making him stop in his tracks. You can only see his backside, but you had a feeling he was grinning like the chesire cat at what you were about say. “I’ll do it. But on one condition.”

\+ + +

Almost all creatures, humans and demons, even throwing the newly discovered angels into the mix, will cooperate when you give them something what they want without giving much of a fuss in return. You just wanted some alone time until the final moment. All you craved was a few hours of peace and quiet in your own house, surrounded with everything that wasn’t a reminder of a Winchester or the impending doom that would take place tomorrow at midnight. It was the perfect last chance of feeling normal for one last time. And the perfect lie Zachariah ate right up. Somehow it was easy to for you to only focus on just wanting to go back home. And when you finally found yourself in the exact spot of your living room floor, a place you hadn’t been in for months, your lips stretched into a smile. Out of precaution, you checked every single inch of the place, making sure there wasn’t an angel lurking on your shoulder, and when noticed the coast was clear for any possible threats, you bolted for the upstairs closet.

Demons were manipulative creatures. They would do just about anything to get what they wanted—lie, make all sorts of deals for the poor soul foolish enough to trust them, and steal things for their own personal benefit. You opened up the door to the hall closet after rushing up the stairs to get what you needed. Maybe Zachariah was right. Maybe you had the soul of one. Pushing away the beaten up board games and faded towels from use over the years, your fingers touched the small box that was hidden away. Most hunters you’ve known like to take extra steps of precaution with weapons secretly hidden away and books of lore tucked into bookshelves with common titles. You had your own safety precautions, some you made, a few you’ve stolen. You threw open the top of the wooden box you pulled out and quickly inspected the clutter of things.

The content inside of the box was a collection of things one might need from your personal experience through the years. There was a small batch of strange things one might need to sell their soul again and a handful of hex bags you created with Ruby’s help to ward away demons. But there was one powerful enough that would help you at this very moment. You snatched the hex bag from the top pile and shoved it into your pocket, wondering if they had caught on by now. When you inspected the hallway to see you were alone, a heavy sigh of relief fell from your lips. It might have been wrong at the time, but you’d stolen a hex bag Ruby had made to help keep you and the boys safe away from angels and demons. It was for when you were working to keep Anna, a fallen angel, safe when both teams were desperate to get their hands on her. Now it was your head on the chopping board, and you were alone. You leaned your head against the wall and closed your eyes for a moment, trying your hardest to process this information.

You pressed your knees against your chest and rubbed your eyes, wondering how things could have get complicated in just a short amount of time. It was funny to think that once your problems were just digesting the idea of being born out of a demon deal and hunting down the deal which cause it. Now you were facing an ordeal that made you feel like it was your responsibility. You needed to find out where Sam was before it was too late. Not to mention where the seal was. But it wasn’t your concern at this very second. You shoved a hand inside your pocket and pulled out your phone, without a second to spare, you found Sam’s number and punched the send button. You heard the ringing, thinking it was a good sign, it mean he left his phone on. But after listening to the handful of rings, you were graced with his voicemail, which wasn’t helping you right now.

“Sam, it’s me. I don’t have much time to explain but you need to pick up your phone.” You pushed yourself up to your feet and headed for your bedroom, wondering what time it was. Walking down the hall and stepping inside the last room on the left, you pushed open the door and examined the room, your eyes landed on the clock to see that it was just shy of six a.m. You swallowed in nervousness at the time crunch you were graciously given. “I’m sorry for how things left us between us. But I don’t have time to give you a speech. Dean’s in serious trouble, hell, I am, too. But I need your help. Please call me back, Sammy.”

You end the call before you can be cut off, leaving you again in silence. You let out a frustrated sigh and attempt to keep yourself under control without breaking under pressure. Everything that could be wrong was happening. You wandered deeper into the bedroom before you dropped yourself on the bed. Your body feels heavy, from the stress, and the burden you’ve been carrying. How could this happen? Every fiber in your being screams for you to lay down and suffer what might come. It’s part of who you are. Zachariah was right, you had no choice. You let yourself wallow in self pity for a moment before your eyes wander away from the wall and to the array of photographs you kept on your nightstand. There’s a few of you from your early teens and childhood, where you were innocent and happy. Your attention drifts to the one of the last photograph taken of your family and the Winchesters. The innocent faces stare back at you, all of them had no idea what they were about to get themselves into. But it doesn’t mean they gave up so easily.

The Winchesters, Mary and John, fought tooth and nail to make sure their boys were safe, despite their different parenting methods, Your parents did everything they could to keep you safe for long as possible. Your mother moved you away and tried her hardest to keep you hidden away from the things that went bump in the night after she realized what she’d done. And your father sold his soul so you could be freed from Hell. Sam, the poor man was out there alone, trying his hardest for months to use a curse brought on him for some good in this world. You could hate him all you want for what he’d done. But you knew it was because he cared. It was his way of trying to help after everything you went through for him. And no matter what Dean had said about him, the man was fighting for a chance to do the right thing. You looked down at your phone for a second, all before a thought came to mind of how you could track down the man without him ever noticing.

\+ + +

He could run, but he couldn’t hide forever. Sam was about most of a day’s drive away, but with some help and extra speed without anyone noticing, you gotten there in under seven hours. He was half a state away, tucked in some abandoned part of town, perfect for someone who squat under the radar. You gotten the brilliant idea of tracking his phone without him noticing. All though it could have backfired if he decided to skip town, for whatever reason that may be, which screwed you over. You just kept hoping, out of any days of the year, luck was on your side today. It seemed there was a bit of a chance you could be right about this when you gotten to your destination just five minutes under the estimated time. You slowly pulled up to the house which Sam should have been occupying with Ruby, you gotten a good feeling about this when you spotted a neon orange car sitting just a few yards from the porch.

You decided it would be a safe bet if you stashed your car a good distance away from the house to give you the element of surprise. A nervous feeling began to sit in the pit of your stomach when you emerged from the woods and take a moment to stare at the house. It was far from abandoned when you examined the boarded up windows and weakened wood that was keeping the structure together. You keep thinking this wasn’t going to end well, but you’ve got no other choice. Besides, Sam wasn’t the one who left mad. You inhaled a deep breath and begin walking to the front porch steps, which creak at the slightest amount of pressure put upon them. You don’t let it stop you as you take a moment to lean forward to peek through the boarded up window, wondering if there’s any activity inside. You see for the most part it’s just debris and old furniture the last person who lived here had abandoned to rot away. You inspect the inside for a moment before you hear the floorboards creak from behind you.

Maybe you were followed here, was the first thing that comes to mind. You nervously swallow and turn around to face your attacker before they could make the first move. With no weapon to protect yourself, you think this could be some trap set up, but all thoughts like that disappear when you see a familiar tall figure shadow over you. You are filled with relief when you see Sam for the very first time in what felt like forever. From the look on his face, he presumed you were an attacker, but when he notices a second later that it’s you, he shifts into surprise, not expecting the stranger lurking around is you. After everything that was said and done, you crack a small smile.

“Hi, Sammy.”

Part Three:

“What the hell are you doing here?”

A few days ago, you would have taken the chance without hesitance to stab Ruby in the chest with her special knife. You thought she was nothing more than a manipulative demon who told lies for what seemed liked her own pleasure, from the deals, all the way into tricking Sam that demon blood was good for him, leading him into a serious addiction. You thought his new thirst for blood changed him for the worse, leading him into making decisions that weren’t like the man you’d known for your entire life. All signs were pointing for you not to have lead yourself here to their whereabouts. He walked out of that hotel room, abandoning you and his brother after deciding that Ruby and her plans she whispered in his ear were more important than facing his problems. That was a few days ago. Today you stood in an abandoned house, stranded in the Boondocks, sweating while you stood next to an open fireplace that was the only thing working in here.

You shrugged off your jacket and placed it across the chair which looked like it could break from any sort of pressure. But it seemed to have held up from the pressure you put on it. The question you heard when stepping inside was brought from Ruby herself. Sam was unsure of how to react, the both of you left on bitter terms, but if he knew anything, you would be here, trying to mend the broken relationship between brothers. Only if that was really was why you were gracing them with your presence. You took a step forward to her, your eyes lingering on the nurse that was lying on the table just across the way. Sam had mentioned before leaving about having a lead on Lilith, it seemed they’d gotten far. The demon closest to her was currently occupying a young female who looked like she should be doing her hourly rounds in a hospital. But she remained unconscious on the table, leaving you with a curiosity to what kind of information the demon knew. You looked away from her and to Ruby, she stared at you with a deathly glare, as if you were here to slash her throat, but you she just wanted an answer. Sam was silent, but you could tell he was itching to figure out himself why you were warming up to him after all that you’ve been through.

“I was wrong.” Your response to the reasoning gave a few moments later. Sam was baffled none the less when you broke the silence, Ruby didn’t seem to be putting her guard down. She shifted her gaze until she was staring at you with skepticism, wondering what your real reasoning was. Rolling your eyes, there was a few things you didn’t want to admit just yet, or process more with a thought to make it real. You just wanted to deal with the problem at hand and stop Lilith before this situation boiled into a bigger problem everyone could agree with was much worse. “Look, I still think this demon blood thing has gotten way out of hand. But—if you guys are right, if Sam can kill Lilith, then I’m in. She needs to be stopped.”

You looked over at Sam, to prove your point, your lips stretched into the smallest smile you could muster up, the words feeling like poison on your tongue. But what else you could do? You were fresh out of options right now. You weren’t going to lie down and let this situation go farther than it had been. Everyone had a special part to play in this fight, Zachariah was right about that. Dean might have started this, but Sam was going to finish it. You didn’t like the thought of what Sam had been doing for months from the lying and drinking the blood behind your back, but nobody was perfect. All of you had done things in your past which made you flawed individuals. He was no different from where you stood a year ago. The only difference was you weren’t going to chicken out with the plan Ruby had given the both of you. Lilith wasn’t going to live past tomorrow night, you were going to make sure of it.

“So we’re all one big, happy family again.” Ruby’s sarcasm never failed, but it was a sign she was letting her guard down. You glanced over to the demon to see that her mood shifted, she was now staring at you with curiosity. “What made you change your mind?”

You let out a sigh, “Let’s just say our friends from above aren’t exactly trustful.”

“Well,” Ruby shifted her attention over to the demon when she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. You looked over your shoulder to see the nurse she was possessing start to come around. As you began to notice her struggling, your focus began looking for a devil’s trap, all though you were finding none, she remained in place. “Welcome to the dark side, Y/N. Things are about to get fun.”

Sam slipped away from you as he headed over to the demon, eager to get started on this interrogation. You lingered behind at a safe distance as Ruby stood next to the man, her lips stretching into a smirk nobody could quite see, seeming rather amused at what was unfolding. The demon struggled a bit more, trying her hardest to find a weak spot from the invisible force that was pinning her in place, but all she was attempting had left her using her energy for nothing. “What,” The demon found exactly what you had discovered when she spoke up, finding the hold on her was much different from rare experiences with hunters. “No devil’s trap?”

“I don’t need one.” Sam responded with a cold tone.

“Look at you—all ‘roided up. It’s like A-Rod and Madonna over here.” The demon snarkily replied with a growing smirk. She strained her neck to stare at the two people standing in front of her, upon inspecting further at the crowd, her eyes wandered away to see you, who had been quietly lingering in the background as a silent bystander. She wondered to herself for a moment of why she felt your face was so familiar looking. Her lips stretched into a grin when it clicked. “Y/N, I haven’t seen you since you were fresh out of Mommy’s womb. You were a such a cute baby. I almost could just have eaten you right up. But the boss wouldn’t have liked that.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion at what you heard the demon say, seeming to find her words a bit haunting. From what you learned about her, she was a demon with close ties to Lilith, and had a diet involving the reason for possessing a nurse who worked in the nursery wing of the hospital. You tighten your arms around your body when Sam jumped back into the conversation, not the least bit amused from what the demon was saying. His mind was focused on the more important questions. “Where’s Lilith?”

The demon shifted her gaze away from you, rolling her eyes in annoyance, she made it seem that the man’s tough exterior wasn’t the least bit frightening for her. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Yeah, you are, actually.” Sam said with a smirk. He could see right through the demon’s attitude ever since their first encounter. She was outnumbered even if she managed an escape. Another demon that went rogue and you lingering in the background, she nervously swallowed, slowly, she began to show her fear. “And with good reason.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, the demon decided that it was time to forfeit the game before she could get herself in deeper trouble. She was cornered with no chance of escaping. So, she tried weaseling her way out, somehow hoping there was a scrap of sympathy between all of you to let her down easy. “Look, what’s my upside?” She asked all of you, trying to show her unfortunate side of this situation. “Okay, I tell you, you kill me. I don’t tell you, you still kill me. I get away somehow, Lilith will definitely kill me. Where’s my carrot?”

“I think what you should be worrying about is what happens before you die.”

Sam showed no signs of sympathy for the demon as he gave her the final warning for what was to come. You watched as a silent bystander as he got to work, and by using his stronger abilities, somehow, he caused pain. The demon’s blood curdling screams erupted through the abandoned house, making you jump slightly the reaction you weren’t expecting to get. Whatever Sam was doing, she sure was reacting like she was in serious pain, the sounds were familiar, too much. You nervously swallowed and looked away for a moment, realizing the noise you heard before was a reminder of your time in Hell when souls were put under torture. Everyone could hear them screaming and begging for mercy for it to stop, but Alastair just continued on with a smirk, enjoying the pain he inflicted on his victims. When you looked over at Sam for a second, he held the same reaction.

What felt like hours of hearing the demon scream, she managed to process a few words between deep breaths to somehow numb the pain, but it was only for mercy for the torture to stop. “You’ll tell me where she is?” Sam questioned her, letting up on the pain, only the slightest to see if she would listen.

“Fine. Fine. Just let me die.” She pleaded with desperation, willing to do just about anything for this to stop. When Sam agreed with the plan, he dropped his hand to his side, allowing the demon to catch her breath for a moment, before she was giving you the information you’d heard not too long ago. “Tomorrow night, midnight. She’s gonna be at a convent—St. Mary’s, Ichester, Maryland.”

“A convent?” You repeated after her, wondering why this sounded familiar.

What did that have to do with that being the final seal? You wondered to yourself for a moment. It didn’t make sense, until you remembered the strange vision you had after Sam was locked up, screaming his head off for a way out, and Bobby telling you about the other seals breaking fast. You remembered seeing several women, scared out of their mind, unsure of what was going on, but you knew it wasn’t good from the bloodshed that followed after. You remembered another detail, involving Yellow Eyes and the words—something about the special children. Maybe Zachariah was right. You had known about the last seal, just sooner than you thought. Whatever happened at the convent, you had a feeling this is where it all started. And where it would end.

“Lilith,” The demon’s voice broke you away from your personal thoughts. You looked over at her to see she was staring at you with the slightest smirk on her face, like she still had leverage. “She’s going to break the final seal.”

“And what is the final seal?” You questioned her, wanting to know for sure.

“I don’t know.” She admitted. You had a feeling she was telling the truth, but Sam wasn’t afraid to press for answer. The demon let out another scream of pain when she felt the torture come back, but no matter how much she begged for it to stop, Sam continued on without an ounce of remorse for what he was doing to her. “I’m begging you—kill me, please!”

Sam didn’t seem to find a problem with that plan. Since the demon had given the information all of you needed to figure out where Lilith was, he was about to fulfill her final request. But before the deed could be done, Ruby stopped him, seeming to find another use for her. “Wait.” She stepped forward, reaching out a hand to stop the man before it was too late. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” You asked her.

“Because we got to take her with us.” Ruby explained, she turned her head to look at you. You raised your brows, wondering why she was going to risk the extra weight. Lilith didn’t really care about this demon, to her, it was just a disposable toy, she’d had too many souls to choose from. But her reasoning brought a bitter resentment in you. “It’s the final run on the death star, and Sam needs more juice than I got.”

You were tempted into lashing out at her, asking why Sam would need even more blood inside of him, but you kept your personal thoughts to yourself. You didn’t like this plan. The thought of Sam feeding off another human made you sick to your stomach. But your personal comfort outweighed the proper thing to do. Lilith was the strongest demon you faced, it would take more than the knife to take her down. And you knew something far worse would come if you didn’t let Sam stop her before tomorrow night. Rolling your eyes, you admitted defeat to Ruby’s plan with a heavy sigh of annoyance. “You promised.” The demon hissed. You looked over at her to see she wasn’t the least bit happy at the clinch in her final deal. She wasn’t pleasantly happy with becoming a blood bag for the young Winchester, either.

“Sorry, sister.” Ruby said without a bit of remorse. “You’re a walking, talking can of whup-ass.”

“You bitch!” The demon called out with anger.

“I know.” Ruby didn’t seem to find the insult a least bit offensive. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, flashing a smile and shrugging her shoulders, she decided to fire back at her own kind. “Just can’t trust anyone these days.”

The demon fell silent, frustrated with the situation that she landed herself in. She contemplated for a moment or so about how she could sneak herself out of this before it could get worse. But, just then, a devious thought about how she could slip away from the possible torture of being drained of blood crossed her mind. The ends of her lips curled into a devious smirk. “Well, least you won’t be able to crack me open that easy.” The demon remarked with a casual tone. Ruby gave her a curious look, wondering what she meant by that. “Don’t forget–it’s not just me you’re bleeding. In fact, I think I’m gonna take a little…siesta in the subconscious–hand over the wheel for a bit.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

‘Cindy McClellan, R.N., Come on down!” The demon introduced you to the woman she was possessing with a brand new attitude. Your stomach dropped in absolute panic when the demon decided to skip out before it could get worse. With a gasp, the woman fell back out consciousness for a second. You watched as Cindy began to come back around after being hidden for some time now. As she began to wake up, things for her were only going to seem like a nightmare from the terrifying situation she landed herself in without any recollection of the past events. “What…Where am I? Oh, my God, I can’t move. What’s going on?”

Cindy frantically began looking around the room, her wide eyes glazed over with fear dropped to you, as she pleaded for you to help her, you only stared back at her with absolute shock. You slowly looked away from her and to Sam, who was standing next to you, the same expression of panic beginning to stretch across his face from what was unfolding. Ruby let out a frustrated sigh, knowing her plan had backfired when the woman began sobbing for someone to help her.

\+ + +

If there was one thing you could provide after stopping here unannounced, it was research. The house had gone quiet a little while ago after Ruby managed to make Cindy stop screaming, by bashing her head against the table. You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but it wasn’t like she was going to be alive for much longer. Shuddering just at the thought of at the poor woman’s demise, you quickly looked away from her unconscious body and back to Sam’s laptop screen, continuing to scroll through through the few news articles that came up when searching for any convent massacres. You bit your bottom lip in curiosity when you scrolled the mouse over to an article that caught your attention. The webpage loaded a moment later, and just a second skimming the headline, you found exactly what you were looking for. Your eyes wandered to the small picture of a smiling priest for a moment, you noticed that his face looked eerily familiar, which only proved the point—You found out where the last seal really was.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered to yourself, finding your attention slipping into the news article you were skimming. You looked upwards at Sam when he asked you what you managed to find. “Get this. St. Mary's—abandoned in '72. After a priest disemboweled eight nuns. It was a pretty gruesome scene. But sure puts virgin sacrifice to a whole new level.”

“What’s black and white and red all over?” Ruby cracked a joke, her lips stretching into a grin from her attempt at lightening up the mood. You gave her a look from the demon’s tasteless humor.

“That’s not funny.” Sam remarked with a frown.

“The priest said it wasn’t his fault.” You continued on explaining the article, making everyone once again focus on the problem at hand. Ruby rolled her eyes from the man’s lack of leniency to have a bit of fun. “He said a demon made him do it. And that he even remembered the demon’s name. The infamous Azazel himself.”

“Wow.” Ruby turned away from her work that had been keeping her occupied and headed over to you. Sam had abandoned his activity to peer over your shoulder, skimming the article to find more information. The demon sat down at the edge of the table. “So, Lilith, Yellow Eyes–all the a-listers are paying visits. Certainly gives the joint credibility.”

"As the place where the final seal goes down.” Sam muttered, remembering what the demon had mentioned.

“Well, it’s good enough for me.” Ruby said. She pushed herself up from the table and walked over to the nurse, seeming rather eager to get a jump start on this plan before it was too late. All of you were one step ahead of Lilith, the demon was right about taking your chance while you still had time. But there was one little clinch in her plan that left you unsettled. “Let’s pack up Nurse Betty and hit the road.”

You reached up a hand to shut the laptop, remaining silent about your views on this entire plan all together. But what threw you off as surprise was Sam. He had been so confident about drinking from Ruby without the thought of hurting her. He got up from his seat, causing Ruby to stop in her tracks and peer up at him, wondering why he looked so nervous all of a sudden. “Hey, maybe, uh…Look,” Sam stumbled a bit, hesitant at speaking his discomfort with this plan. “Maybe we can find another demon.”

“What? Are you suddenly growing to be a softie because Y/N’s here?” Ruby questioned him with an argumentative tone of voice. Sam furrowed his brow in confusion of why she would say such a thing. He glanced away from the man, consciously examining you from the corner of his eye for a moment to see what your reaction was. It was the drinking of demon blood from Ruby herself that caused this fight in the first place. But it seemed you had a change of heart. He shifted his attention back to the demon when she spoke up again to try and persuade him. “That blubbery ‘Don’t hurt me’ crap—It’s just an act. She’s playing you.”

“I’m not so sure.” Sam said, still not backing down on what he personally thought was right.

“Even if she’s not, there’s still a hell-bitch snoozing in there.” Ruby said. She took a few steps towards him until she was just a few feet away. “I mean, come on. It’s not like you haven’t done this before, right?”

You furrowed your brow form what Ruby meant by that. But it seemed to have been the perfect line to win the fight. Sam admitted defeat when he let out a quiet sigh, knowing in the back of his mind that Ruby was right. She gave him a reassuring nod as she turned around to round up the supplies before leaving you and Sam alone for the first time since you arrived here without notice. You bit the inside of your cheek as your attention wandered over to the helpless woman lying on the table. You didn’t know how long the demon had been possessing her. It could have been days, or months. In the back of your mind, you knew in the back of her mind there was no way she was going to make it out of this alive. If the demon did somehow get loose and track down Lilith to warn the surprise attack, she would surely be killed off without remorse of the human soul hidden inside. But that’s not what you were truly worried about at this very moment.

The legs of the wooden chair scraped against the floors, sending the noise to echo through the eerily quiet house. You pushed yourself up to your feet and watched Sam for a moment as he paced around slightly, trying to busy himself with gathering up what personal things he had lying around, the important task at hand was the farthest thing from his mind. You let out a quiet sigh and circled around the table until you were just a few feet away from him. Nervousness began to settle inside your stomach as your fingers tangled themselves together. You opened your mouth, starting the very first private conversation with Sam since you gotten here.

“Uh, Sam,” Your voice came out more timid than you expected, but it was loud enough for Sam to turn away from his small project, seeming almost relieved for something else to distract him. You could feel your anxiousness grow more when he looked at you straight in the eye. Both of you were still on very tender terms. Neither one of you were sure about where you stood, but you hoped he would understand how you felt after coming all the way here and quietly following this plan. “I know this is none of my business, but I was just curious. When Ruby said that you’ve done this before…D-Did you,” You found the question was at the tip of your tongue but it wouldn’t come directly out. It took a second before Sam realized what you were trying to get at. Before he could stop this conversation, your mouth blurted out the words. “Did you drink from another demon before—and kill them?”

“Why are you really here Y/N? Did Dean send you to stop me?” Sam answers your question with another. In just the blink of an eye his entire demeanor changes. He suddenly doesn’t seem so hesitant anymore at doing what Ruby had commanded him to do. Just the mention of his brother’s name sends him into a fit of frustration and anger all over again. You furrowed your brow, wondering why he would jump to that conclusion. All though you want nothing more than to tell him exactly what’s going on, there’s no time to answer the questions that would follow. Suddenly you realize asking him this one little question has opened up a mending wound. You tried opening your mouth to explain that you were only here to help, Sam cuts you off, unsatisfied with your flimsy excuse. “What, are you going to try and lock me up again?”

Are you going to stop drinking demon blood when Lilith is dead and gone? Are you going to finally retire this role you think you have? I just want you to be okay, Sam. Suck down a little more poison and kill the demon bitch so we can be a family again. I want to feel normal. Or is this addiction going to keep spiraling out of control until you’re turned into a completely different species? I have this feeling, Sam. I’m afraid if you drink too much…something bad’s going to happen. Your personal thoughts were tempting enough to speak them so you could show Sam what you were really feeling. But they remained as what they were, just a thought. Instead you opened your mouth and remained civil towards him. "Of course, not. I’m here because I want to help, Sam.”

“If you want to help so badly, then get off my back.” Sam snaps at you like it was a command. You bite the inside of your cheek from the attitude he sprang on you without a bit of remorse. Reminding yourself that tension are high between everyone because of stress, you swallow down the aching urge to continue on with this argument just because of how he’s treating you. For once you know how he feels. Dean’s always been the one to boss him around without much of a choice and for once, Sam gets to play the role of calling the shots. Time is running out and there’s not much left you can do but listen. “Just stay out my way. That’s how you can help.”

Sam looks at you directly in the eye when he speaks the harsh words, it takes everything in you to be silent and nod your head. You cross your arms over your chest and allow him to finally move on to the dreaded task Ruby asked of him before this conversation erupted into an argument. It seemed you helped him, for his hesitance seemed to have vanished, replaced with frustration and anger. You didn’t speak a single word when Sam roughly awoke the very confused Cindy, who took no more than a few seconds before she was begging for help, struggling the best she could for the six-foot four man that carried her out the front door like it was nothing. You wandered out to the porch and watched as she was shoved into the trunk, her cries for help echoed into the air with nobody to help her. In just a few hours she would be dead. You reminded yourself Lilith would be, too. Like that would change what you were about to let happen.

\+ + +

It took hours of driving and having to listen scream her head off to help that would never come, but all of you were finally here. You stood in the grassy plains of Maryland and stared at the faded sign introducing St. Mary’s church that would be ahead in the next two miles. The car headlights illuminated the wooden sign, showing off the paint which was far from taken off due to decades of weather damage. Ruby stood in front of you, her hands twirling around the small knife to keep herself occupied as she observed the very quiet Sam. The three of you have been on edge since leaving the house. You nervously swallowed when you heard Cindy screaming with a hoarse voice as she pounded again and again on the trunk. What you would do to help her. You suddenly felt like you were going to be sick to your stomach when you realized what was about to witness in the next few seconds when Ruby’s impatience broke the silence.

“Sam, it’s time.” Ruby said, drawing the man out of his trance as he spent the last few minutes of observing the sign. “Are we doing this or not?”

“Give me a minute to think.” Sam spoke up for the first time since he’d gotten into an argument with the demon. You remembered how Sam finally noticed the message from his brother. You hoped he would finally just listen to it, you knew it was the last thing that would set things straight once and for all. Ruby wasn’t exactly happy for the clinch in her plan when she opened up her mouth and spoke his name, but that was the only thing she could get out before he snapped again. “Give me a damn minute, Ruby!”

Ruby rolled her eyes in frustration, but she backed off, allowing him to complete the task. You watched as Sam reached a hand inside his jacket to pull out his cell phone, and if you were correct as he pressed it to his ear, he was going to listen to the message his brother had left for him. But when he heard what his brother had to say, it wasn’t what you heard, it was different—a sinister twist that was pulled to trick him. You were lying. His brother wasn’t sorry for what he said.

“Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I’d either have to save you or kill you. Well, I’m giving you fair warning. I’m done trying to save you. You’re a monster, Sam—a vampire. You’re not you anymore. And there’s no going back.”

Emotions was one of the things Ruby didn’t miss about being a human. She continued to twirl the knife in her hands and listened as the message Dean left for his little brother play out, all the way to the automatic beep. The game to this very end was all about manipulation. Some players were easy to control, others would take time until they would do exactly what you wanted them to. Ruby let her lips fall from the smirk that spread in satisfaction as Sam turned around to face her. The man standing in front of her has been wanting for the past several months.

“Do it.” Sam mumbled without a sign of hesitance.

\+ + +

Fifteen minutes. It took Sam fifteen minutes to drink the woman of all her blood. He ignored her pleas and screams for any last attempt for help before Ruby slashed her wrist so Sam could start his feast. You refused to be apart of this and see it unfold. Months of trying to figure out a way to kill Lilith and this is what it’s come to. You refused to be apart of this—from the sight of Sam drinking her blood, to the actual attempt at killing the demon who was the last piece of the puzzle. You suddenly wondered why you were here in the first place. You stood in the middle of an empty field with a dead nurse at your feet and nobody around for the next two miles. Sam left with Ruby to complete the task. High off the demon blood that was pumping through his veins, it would be only a little while until Lilith was dead and the world would be safe for good.

What next?

You couldn’t help yourself but think at what laid ahead for the three of you and this continuous journey. Suddenly you remembered about Chuck, an author who had written your life out in perfect detail, a prophet of the Lord. This wasn’t a story. Your life wasn’t going to end when the words in black and white were finished. What happens if Lilith dies? What does that mean for Dean? And if Sam wasn’t strong enough to kill Lilith, it means there was a chance this could still happen. Your foot subconsciously wanted to take that step to help, but you wouldn’t let yourself. You reminded yourself if you went there, you could doom the chances of winning this fight. This wasn’t your role to play. You weren’t going to fall into place like everyone wanted you to be. If you were going to write your own path, you had to let Sam take this one. Because Lilith had to die. It’s not like she was going to survive this when the final seal was broken when she stupidly admitting that to Sam when she tried making a deal to him. Wait, you thought to yourself. Why would she say that? It doesn’t make sense.

Everyone knew how the first seal was broken—it was because the older Winchester himself after he picked up the knife and began carving away at damned souls. Or so you were lead to believe.

The first who starts it, must finish it. Lilith has been the one who started all of this before Dean picked up that knife. They needed someone after John refused. They needed someone like Dean, impressionable and far too attached to their most valued player, you. Lilith, the demon in charge of deals, had been one step ahead of all of you since the beginning. She wanted the both of you dead, but for different reasons that she wouldn’t admit to the enemy. Lilith played along, pulling at your strings until the end of your deal, and using your weaknesses to continue her plan. She lead you into believing she was going to save Dean if you just let her possess your body for a few minutes. You furrowed your brow in realization of why she wanted that. Because she wanted the last image of Dean to see you as a monster, the woman who was the reason why he was damned to Hell. Giving him the exact ammunition he needed to start torturing you after Alastair pushed all the right buttons.

But that wasn’t the end, Sam did play an important role for this fight. Every demon knew the Winchesters and their weaknesses. Sam was forced to watch his brother and best friend be murdered in cold blood by hellhounds. Lilith gave him a reason to keep on living, because he wanted her dead, and he’d do just about anything to make it happen. Even if meant sucking down all the demon blood he could find to be strong enough to take her on. She knew a Winchester wouldn’t stop until their target was dead. Even if Sam had the chance to kill her before it was too late, you still wondered what the final seal was, and why Lilith had to pay the price with her life break it. If she dies, the end begins. Which means…

“She’s the final seal.” You whispered the words out into the dead of night, suddenly realizing what was going on here. “Lilith’s the final seal!”

You could feel your blood freeze in shock at what you had managed to put together in just a short amount of time. There was no denying it. She was the first demon created, it would only make sense to sacrifice the alpha for their creator to be free. It was all part of the plan. Dean might have been the one to start this, but it was his younger brother, Azazel’s special child that would finish this. You let out shaky breath as you fumbled to look at the clock on your phone. 11:42 P.M. You let out a nervous breath and look at the sign again. Two miles separate you from stopping the end of the world and letting Sam make the worst mistake of his life. You inhaled a deep breath and began running, silently hoping your seven minute pace wouldn’t fail.

You ran fast as your legs would take you. Despite the ache in your thighs and deep breaths from anxiety mixed with adrenaline, you made yourself run like there was no tomorrow. Because if you didn’t stop this, you knew there wouldn’t be. You navigated your sight from the darkness and ignored the fact your breaths were coming out heavy and loud. Let them know you were coming, because for all as they cared, you were going to help bring on the end. You ran until you saw the convent come into view, the place where eight nuns were murdered in the name of Lucifer himself. You cautiously examined the outside area to see that nobody was in sight. Slowing down your pace into a brisk walk, you managed to catch your breath when you walked inside the building, wondering what laid ahead of you.

The inside of an abandoned convent was what one would expect; the place was covered with cobwebs and what remained of religious objects people left behind. You wandered down the hall until you turned a corner, you had a feeling you were going the right direction, but when you stumbled upon a row of bodies lying on each side of the wall, the urge grew stronger. You stopped for a moment to inspect the hallway which seemed to have gone on forever. But like the light at the end of the tunnel—you saw him. You didn’t scream or beg him to stop. You made yourself run, before it was too late. You ran into the exact room where once Azazel had stood to speak to the Devil himself. And just like he wanted, Lilith and you stood in the room, just moments away from finishing this very special deal. Your focus landed on the demon herself, who was rendered defenseless, she was pinned against the pew by Sam. You had your chance, all you had to do was open your mouth and tell him stop. But before the warning could slip out of your mouth, the sound of another pair of footsteps coming from down the hall caught your attention.

You slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder at who was approaching. It wasn’t who you were expecting to see so soon. Armed with the demon knife, Dean stood at the end of the hall. You made eye contact with him, unsure if Zachariah told him your role, you wanted him to know that you weren’t here for the end, you were here to stop this just like him. As your lips stretched into a smile for the backup that you’d gotten, the fraction of happinesses died quickly as it started.

The heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind you, enclosing the four of you into the room. Furrowing your brow in confusion, you quickly snapped your head forward, wondering if Lilith had done it. But you noticed Ruby, the demon who lead you all here, was staring at you with a devious grin. Before the words you’d been dying to say came out, you suddenly felt your hands loosely wrap around your throat. It felt like someone was choking the air out of your lungs. When you looked at Ruby again, she pressed her index finger to her lips, quietly shushing you.

Part Four:

Remember that old saying? It was something about how it’s better to trust the Devil you know, like an old friend, and not the Devil you don’t. You blindly put your trust into Ruby with every fiber in your being for the past two years. She had been the one demon who had actually tried to help you, somehow making you and Sam believe that she was good, despite her bitter black soul turned sour from the centuries of being tortured. The demon lured you into the trap when she opened her big mouth, saying she could help you save Dean from Hell so he could be with his little brother, keeping them one happy family. She tried it your way only once, and that was during the hunt which you gotten dragged into the mess after you almost died. Ruby had mentioned something about leaving a few clues around to help smooth things along. But right after that, when you gotten the clinch in your deal, she told you it was a stupid effort. That should have been your warning signal to not trust the demon. Yet you still kept believing she was good, over and over again, despite the damage she’d done to you and the brothers.

She was the reason why you were standing in the middle of the convent’s church with your throat feeling like someone was squeezing the air out of your body until there was nothing left. Ruby had to make sure Lilith was dead. And she wouldn’t let you ruin this situation, because your role had been fulfilled, there was no lines you needed to speak. Just stand there and look pretty while the fate of humanity crumbles at your feet. You watched as Sam stood with his back turned to you, his focus settled on the demon he’d only known for her destruction of his family and tampering with the fate of the world. He only had one thing on his mind, and with his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the demon blood fogged his rationalization and didn’t allow him to think of the conclusion you came to just a few minutes ago. The man that you knew was gone, he jumped off the edge when he drained a defenseless woman dry. What became of months drinking demon blood had changed him for the worst, and far too dangerous for his own good. What Dean had feared was standing right in front of you.

“I’ve been waiting for this, for a very long time.” Sam said with a devilish smirk spreading across his lips. You could hear the difference in his voice, how dark and ominous it was compared to the Sam you once knew. He spent two years waiting for the chance to get Lilith out of his way and bury the revenge that had changed his life. He pushed off the distractions and people who tried to take him off the path because they thought his way was wrong. But it was going to be because of him and the demon blood that was going to save the day.

Lilith, even near the edge of death, wasn’t going to back down from the masquerade she’s been playing just right. Her lips stretched into a smirk, as if she wasn’t pinned into place of the marble pew, she’d already come to terms with her fate. “Then give it your best shot.”

Suddenly time felt like it was moving slow. You fought tooth and nail to break yourself from whatever Ruby was doing before it was too late. There wasn’t a chance you were going to let Azazel win far from beyond the grave. His hard work of finding that one special child had been a grueling search of making deals with countless future parents in the early seventies. He wasn’t sure who he was looking for, until Mary Winchester came along. She was a hunter, born and raised, pretty as hell with a fierce attitude to match. Ten years before Sam was to be born, she made a deal to bring her future husband John Winchester back from the dead. Maybe if she didn’t walk into the nursery that November night to tend to baby Sam’s cries, maybe he wouldn’t be standing here about to bring the end of the world. He could have ended up dead like the rest of the special children. And someone would have taken his place. But no matter how you looked at it, this all could have been prevented if you just stayed put.

Your pounding heartbeat seemed to have been the only thing you could hear at this very moment. Sam was still in there—the nerdy, sarcastic and too sympathetic for his own good was shoved deep below. You needed to reach him and snap him out of this before it was too late. But there were so many factors challenging his attention. Lilith, who was taking the first blow of whatever he was doing to her, and the chaos that was erupting from it. Dean was pounding on the door and screaming his brother’s name, Ruby was shouting on the top of his lungs to hurry up before it was too late. You somehow managed to finally take in that sweet breath of air.

“Sam! Sam? Sam!”

“What are you waiting for?!”

There were too many elements at this very second to focus on. Sam found himself drifting away for a second, startled to hear his brother’s voice, and the sheer panic in it. He was worried. Dean was worried about him. Without thinking about it, Sam lost focus on the demon in front of him and turned to look over his shoulder. The first thing he noticed was the doors to the outside were shut, someone was frantically pounding to get inside. He furrowed his brow in confusion, but lost his focus for a second on who was on the outside, for his attention was captured by the two people standing in front of him. Ruby stood closer, and by her facial expression, she was urging him to continue on like a rabid coach with the finish line being so close. But he suddenly found himself drifting away in concern when his gaze landed upon you. You were staring at him with widen eyes of fear and your mouth wide open, the words of his name and no came out clearly to him. Were you telling him to not listen to his brother and continue on? Or were you warning him to stop?

Lilith’s laughter broke him out of his moment of hesitation. She was the demon who had murdered his brother and best friend. She was the demon pushed him into becoming the monster Dean warned him about. She made him trust one of her own kind. Sam slowly drew his gaze back to Lilith, his expression hardening when he noticed she was somehow still trying to get under his skin and win this fight. She stared at him with a toothy grin as her cynical laughter began to slowly quiet down so she could tear him to pieces one last time. “You turned yourself into a freak. A monster.” She taunted him, using the exact word he had grown to despise. She chuckled when she noticed a nerve was hit by the twitch of his eyebrow, so she continued on. “And now you’re not gonna bite? I’m sorry, but that is honestly adorable.”

You managed to get yourself free from whatever Ruby was doing to you in the nick of time. Out of revenge, you raced behind her and shoved the demon out of the way, using enough force to make her stumble a bit, giving you just seconds to stop this before it was too late. “Sam!” You screamed his name on the top of your lungs, hoping he would hear you. Every fiber in your body felt like it was on edge, you could feel the warning at the edge of your tongue. And that moment, when you stood directly in front of him with Lilith not more than a few feet away, you could feel a sliver of hope that you could stop this before it was too late. “Don’t! She’s the final—”

But it was too late. The man standing in front of you wasn’t Sam Winchester. He was everything far worse than what you could have imagined. The eyes you were staring at wasn’t the hybrid of a color you had always wondered was green like his brother, or perhaps it was blue, it depends on the lighting in the room. But it was clear from the moonlight that reflected through an open window that you were staring upon a pair of inky black eyes, most commonly noticed in a soulless monster, like a demon. All the blood Ruby had pumped into his system flushed everything out, leading to a startling conclusion nobody expected to see unfold. Sam turned himself into a demon.

Revenge came a big price, you knew that one better than anyone. When Yellow Eyes finally was put down after Dean shot him with the colt, it was at the price of letting the gates of Hell be opened, freeing hundreds of demons in the process. You quickly looked away from the changed man and to the demon that laid not even a few feet from where you stood. Lilith’s face slowly drew itself into a pained expression as Sam began what he set out to start over a year ago. There was no stopping it.

Lilith let out a gasp of pain when a sudden rush of power went rushing through her body, something she’d never face before. You watched as hues of a faded orange began to almost glow inside of her body from what Sam was doing. But it was just the brutal beginning. Sam continued on, pushing himself into inflicting the most brutal pain he could give. He pushed and pushed, stopping for a second, only to see Lilith wheeze and breathe, trying her hardest to catch her breath. But he started up again, giving it all this time, using so much power to the point it almost seemed like he was pushing himself to the edge. All of this lasted for what felt like forever, just seeing Lilith struggle and let out pitiful breaths of her final gasps of air, this was the sight you could have only dreamed of. But it was your new nightmare for what was about to happen because of your selfish desire.

Lilith’s dead body dropped to the cold stone floor when Sam finished with her. This was a sight you had imagined countless times in the back of your mind for months. When you finally gotten Lilith out of the way, you honestly thought relief would be the first emotion you would feel. But the wide blue eyes of the woman she possessed stared at you. Your entire body felt numb to the core from what your first conscious thought was. Lilith was dead—The final seal was broken.

The entire room fell into a deep silence. You examined the sight, wondering for a moment if this was really happening. But when you blinked, the body still remained on the floor, and this nightmare continued to be your reality. Everything you worked hard for was gone. You found yourself distracted for a moment when you began to notice something rather peculiar unfolding right in front of your very eyes. You furrowed your brow slightly when you noticed a pool of blood beginning to form from the head wound Lilith must have gotten from the impact. That wasn’t the strange part, it was how the deep, crimson red blood began to move on its own into a narrow path, sliding across the marble floor like a slithering snake up to no good.

“What the hell?” Sam’s voice caught you off guard. Your eyes jumped up from the floor to see that Sam was cautiously coming forward to you, but his focus wasn’t on you, but the blood that was moving on its own. He seemed back to his normal self, almost as if nothing happened. But you could see his bafflement turn into slight panic from what was unfolding right in front of his eyes, knowing this didn’t seem right. “Ruby, what’s going on?”

“You guys did it.” Ruby mumbled. She stood next to the younger Winchester as she watched the blood continue on, it began drawing itself closer to you, making a circle around where you stood. “I mean, it was a little touch-and-go there for a while, but…you guys did it.”

“What?” Sam asked. You didn’t focus on the dilemma the put himself into, your focus was kept on the disturbing sight unfolding right at your feet. You could feel your breathing suddenly shift into heavier pants of nervousness when you glanced down at the floor to see the blood was almost trapping you in a circle. “What—What did I do?”

“You opened the door.” Ruby answered him with a quiet tone. But she wasn’t upset. You slowly looked up to see that she was in astonishment for what she accomplished all by herself. Her lips stretched into a smile from what she could finally say. “And he’s free at last. He’s free at last.”

Sam furrowed his brother at what the demon said, unsure of who she was speaking about. You could feel a lightheaded spell wash over you from what slipped out of your mouth. “Lucifer’s cage is open.” Your tone wasn’t filled with happiness like Ruby, it was quiet and meek. You subconsciously stared at the man responsible for this, both of you shared the same terrified expression of what you said next to drive this home. “He’s coming.”

“No, no, no.” Sam denied what’d done. Despite the sheer look of horror starting to settle into your expression, he tried to wire the situation towards the reason he was lead to believe. If he killed Lilith, this wouldn’t happen, the last seal would have remained intact. Pointing a finger at the dead body, he stared down at Ruby. “No, he—Lilith— stopped her. I killed her!”

“And it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal.” Ruby spoke the sweet words she had been keeping to herself for two long years. You could feel your fingers tightening themselves as Sam peered down once more at Lilith’s dead body, his eyes widened from what he’d really done. The demon watched as he began to pace around the room, her lips stretched into a grin. “And you busted her open. Now guess who’s coming to dinner.”

You glanced down at the floor to see that the circle was complete now, but you noticed there were small lines that were breaking off, slowly inching closer where you were standing. You tried to back away, in fear of what the hell would happen if you let it touch you, but it stopped just a few inches from where you stood for the moment. “Oh, my God.” You accidentally whispered to yourself in sheer panic from what was unfolding right in front of your eyes.

“Guess again, Y/N.” Ruby remarked. Your head snapped up from the slip up she thought was funny. While you were tempted to lash out at her and claw the demon’s eyes out of her skull, you stopped when you heard a loud thumping echo from the door. Dean was trying to break his way in, but Ruby wasn’t afraid of the big, bad brother. She got what she wanted. But it seemed she didn’t find your deathly glare very appropriate. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve done so much for you two. You don’t even know how hard this was—all the demons out for my head. No one knew. I was the best of those sons of bitches! The most loyal! Not even Alastair knew! Only Lilith!”

Ruby thought you were going to be proud of her for playing teacher’s pet to the one demon which had been your obsession for months. She lured you both into believing all her little lies that were for her own benefit. Sam stood across from her, knowing he’d been the biggest victim of all. “Yeah, I’m sure you both are a little angry right now, but, I mean, come on, Sam!” Ruby was getting cocky when she tried to sweet talk him one more time. He was seeing her, the real demon, for the very first time. Sam shared everything with her, he always chose her over his brother, hell, he even slept with her a few times, just because he thought she was different from her kind. She never judged him for what he wanted to do. “Even you have to admit—I'm—I’m awesome!“

"You bitch.” Sam hissed at the demon with sheer hatred. He suddenly realized in that moment he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. The man had pushed away his brother and even you for a while. He listened to Ruby’s advice to pump you more with demon blood, drink a little more for himself to make sure he was strong. She hadn’t been helping him. She had been manipulating him to her perfect little toy to get exactly what the demons wanted all along. “You lying bitch!”

Sam thought it wasn’t too late to try and seek revenge on just one more demon before it was too late. But when he tried swinging her across the room, it ended with him slowly falling to the floor when a pounding migraine took over his system. You watched as he began to crawl backwards until he was sitting where Lilith was not too far ago, you suddenly became overwhelmed with anger. “What the hell are you doing to him?” You questioned her with a threatening tone. “I swear, when I get my hands on you, you’re gonna be begging to be back in Hell.”

"Easy, killer. You’ll be happy to know Sammy’s back to normal. He shot his payload on the boss.” Ruby said, giving at least a bit of good news that made nobody feel better. She stared at the younger Winchester for a moment until she turned her gaze at you. “But you, Y/N, this is only the beginning. He’s going to be proud for what I’ve done to you.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion from what she meant by that. Sam wondered for a moment, trying to think what she could have meant, only it hit him like a ton of bricks all over again. “The blood.” He mumbled to himself. He looked up at the demon with disgust. “You poisoned me. You made me—”

"No. I made her stronger because of it. You’ll see. As for you, Sammy. It wasn’t the blood. It was you and your choices. I just gave you options, and you chose the right one every time.” Ruby tried to console the man as she began to approach him. The demon gave him a smile that was supposed to make him feel warm and fuzzy inside, but all he felt was disgust and fear for what he’d done. “You didn’t need the feather to fly. You had it in you the whole time, Dumbo.” Sam looked at her with a glare from the reference she tried making to lighten the mood. Ruby took a step forward to him before crouching down at his level. “I know it’s hard to see it now, but this is a miracle so long coming. Everything Azazel did and Lilith did just to get the two of you here. But it was you Sammy, you were the only one that could do it.”

“Why?” Sam asked the question that had been burning in the back of his mind. Ruby embraced the younger Winchester when she began to notice he was near the edge of tears. The man had constantly tried to the right thing despite what people have said about him. His own father thought of him as a monster. And they were all right. "W-Why me?”

“Because, because it had to be you, Sammy. It was always had to be you.” Ruby consoled the man. She brushed back his hair and talked to him in a calm tone. “You saved us. You set him free. And he’s gonna be grateful. He’s gonna repay you in ways that you can’t even imagine.”

You took the opportunity and jumped out from the circle as the blood began to draw closer to where you were standing when Ruby was distracted. You were unsure of what was going on, but thinking it could be stopped if you broke the chain, you ran your shoe across the pool of blood, smearing the substance across the dirty stone floors. It stopped moving for a second, only before each little droplet began connecting together again, as if nothing just happened. You furrowed your brow in confusion, but your attention was pulled away from the very puzzling sight when you heard the heavy wooden doors swing wide open.

Looking over your shoulder, it came as no surprise to you when Dean stood in the door entrance with a heavy piece of iron he found lying around to help break inside. A predatorial expression crafted itself on Dean’s face when he spotted the demon. Ruby pushed herself to her feet when she noticed the special she’d been trying to ward off finally decided to pay a visit. Dean came charging forward and ripped out the demon knife from his pocket, Ruby only smirked at the measly threat she thought was to scare her.

“You’re too late.”

“I don’t care.”

Before Ruby could try and slip out of the punishment that had been long overdue, you took the only chance and roughly pinned the demon into place, making her face the oldest Winchester and what he was about to do. Dean didn’t hesitate for a second when he shoved the knife into Ruby, he pushed hard as he could and twisted around the blade so he could inflict maximum pain inside her. All those disagreements, fights, and for the both of you going to Hell—it was all Ruby’s fault. You finally let go of her body when Dean pulled out the bloody knife from her stomach. You watched as the comatose woman she had possessed dropped to the ground, joining her boss.

It was a long moment before you finally looked up at Dean, knowing the both of you had been separated without much of a choice after hearing the truth of what really laid ahead for him. You couldn’t give him nothing more than just a petrified expression for what was going to happen. But the moment wasn’t getting any better when Sam finally joined the two of you. He loomed over you with an expression that easily could be read as regret. You couldn’t be mad at him. He didn’t know what he was doing, none of you did until the last second, before it was too late to go back.

“I’m sorry.” Sam whispered to the both of you.

Dean wasn’t sure for a second of what his brother meant by that, until it clicked just a second later. Lilith was dead, the final seal was broken. Lucifer was going to walk free because of his little brother. But that was about to be the least of your worries in the matter of seconds. Dean was the first one to notice the soft vibrations at his feet, all though it started off slow, it was progressing to becoming more violent by the second. All of you looked at the circle to see that something was happening, a violently bright light began to rise from it. Dean reached out a hand and roughly grabbed ahold of his brother, as Sam snatched you by your wrist, linking all of you together to make a safe getaway.

“Guys, let’s go.” Dean ordered as he tugged at his brother to get moving before it was too late.

But all of you remained at your spot on the floor. You watched as the light began to grow and the entire room began to shake, almost threatening to destroy the convent which housed you. Somehow you couldn’t tear your eyes away from what was about to happen. The Devil has been talked about, been the reason for your existence, and thought of a million different ways of how he would make his appearance on Earth. What was unfolding right in front of your very eyes—this was it. This was the door to his cage. 

“Guys,” You managed to speak when you found the courage to announce the dreaded two words. “He’s coming.”


End file.
